1. Ralph Adams Cram, ca. 1911. Photograph by Marceau of Boston. Cour- tesy of the Library of Congress.  Primus inter pares A L B E R T M. C. F R I E N D A N D T H E A R G U M E N T O F T H E PRINCETON UNIVERSITY CHAPEL   .   And, sometimes, even chapel lures That conscious tolerance of yours … —.  , This Side of Paradise P RI NCETON may have adopted the title “University” in 1896, but it still looked like the College of New Jersey. The campus’s as- sortment of architectural styles—from the Greek Revival of Whig and Clio Halls to the High Victorian of Chancellor Green Library— was thought unbefitting for the institution’s new status. Gothic, it was suggested, could address the disorder and visually unify the campus. The style had recently captivated several influential Princetonians on visits to Oxford and Cambridge, who perceived that the look of old universities could give their new one the illusion of age.1 As Wood- row Wilson famously said in celebration of Princeton’s Gothicized appearance, “[W]e have added a thousand years to the history of Princeton … and as the imagination … of classes yet to be graduated from Princeton [is] affected by the suggestions of that architecture, we shall find the past of this country married with the past of the world.” 2 There was no better minister to perform this marriage than the “high priest” of Gothic, the American architect Ralph Adams Cram (1863–1942; fig. 1). Cram, whose firm had proven itself at West Point, was chosen as supervising architect for Princeton’s makeover, a posi- tion he occupied for more than twenty years (1907–1929). Although Cram was a tireless, lifelong champion of the Gothic style, he neither I would like to thank Gretchen Oberfranc and W. Barksdale Maynard for their in- valuable suggestions and encouragement with this article. 1 As Bryn Mawr and the University of Pennsylvania had recently adopted the Col- legiate Gothic style, there was American precedent for this choice as well. 2 Quoted in Donald Drew Egbert, “The Architecture and the Setting,” in The Modern Princeton (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1947), 94. 471 believed that churches had to be Gothic nor lacked appreciation for other styles of architecture, including modernism, so long as they were used in the appropriate contexts.3 But he thought that Gothic was uniquely suited to university life in the English-speaking West. With characteristic panache, he described his task at Princeton as “assimilating the heterogeneous repast of varied types of aesthetic food she [Princeton] had wolfed down during her formative period, with scant attention to gustatorial harmonies or the possibilities of a normal digestive system.” 4 Among the existing buildings that Cram sought to assimilate into his Gothic campus plan was Princeton’s Marquand Chapel (Rich- ard Morris Hunt, 1882). With the “rounded apse of a Roman basil- ica, the transept of a Gothic cathedral, and the minaret of a Turkish mosque,” 5 Marquand Chapel was a perfect example of the promis- cuous architectural tastes that so unsettled Cram. But a 1920 fire that destroyed the building—Cram called it a “purging flame”—gave him the opportunity to work a new chapel into his scheme as well.6 The Princeton University Chapel, the “crown jewel in [Cram’s] campus plan,” illustrates Cram’s hope to take up at Presbyterian Princeton where English Gothicists such as William of Wickham (1320–1404) had left off.7 A high-church Anglican with a deep ap- preciation for Catholicism, Cram believed that the Gothic style had never been exhausted, but had been murdered by King Henry VIII. For this reason, the Chapel’s resemblance to the remaining frag- ment of England’s Gisborough Priory (figs. 2 and 3), an Augustinian 3 Douglass Shand-Tucci, Church Building in Boston, 1720–1970 (Concord, Mass.: Rumford Press, 1974), 53. 4 Ralph Adams Cram, “Princeton Architecture,” The American Architect 96, no. 1752 ( July 21, 1909), 21. For an informative discussion on the resistance to Cram’s plan, and Woodrow Wilson’s support of it, see W. Barksdale Maynard, Woodrow Wil- son: Princeton to the Presidency (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008), 88ff. 5 Sara E. Bush and P. C. Kemeny, “The Princeton University Chapels: An Ar- chitectural and Religious History,” Princeton University Library Chronicle (PULC ) 60, no. 3 (Spring 1999), 335. 6 Ralph Adams Cram, “Some Architectural and Spiritual Aspects of the Chapel,” Princeton Alumni Weekly (PAW ), May 25, 1928, 987. 7 Asa S. Bushnell et al., “What Is to Be Done with the New Chapel?” PAW, May 25, 1928, 345; Cram, “Architectural and Spiritual Aspects of the Chapel,” 988. Fit- tingly, William appears in the University Chapel carved in pollard oak on the south side of the choir, holding what we can assume are buildings from the two colleges he founded, Winchester College and New College, Oxford. 472 2. The remains of the four- teenth-century Gisborough Pri- ory, Guisborough, North York- shire. Photograph by Neil Gray. Used with permission. 3. Princeton University Chapel. Photograph by the author. monastery destroyed during Henry’s dissolution of the monasteries, is no coincidence.8 That said, Cram rejected mere regurgitations of old forms as “archaeology, not architecture,” 9 and insisted that neither he nor any of the Gothic architects who preceded him at Princeton have “indulged in copying.” Instead, “they have done that amazing thing, restored a moribund art to new and crescent life.” 10 Cram in- tentionally amalgamated varied Gothic styles to make a fresh con- tribution to twentieth-century architecture,11 a tradition carried for- ward into the twenty-first century by Princeton’s Demetri Porphyrios *74 *80 (Whitman College, 2007). In his own recollections of supervising the Chapel’s construction, Cram described himself working with the stonecutters, woodcarv- ers, ironworkers, and glassmakers as primus inter pares (first among equals).12 But when it comes to the iconography of the new Chap- el’s glass and stone, it was not Cram, but Princeton’s Albert Mathias Friend Jr. (1894–1956; A.B. 1915, M.A. 1917) who operated as primus inter pares (fig. 4). After serving in World War I, Friend had remained in Europe to study and salvage works of art and architecture. He returned to Princeton in 1921 as an instructor in the Department 8 Shand-Tucci, Church Building in Boston, 50. Along with “the little known but ex- quisite fragment of Gisborough,” Cram and his partner Frank Ferguson mention King’s College, Cambridge, and Carlisle Cathedral as inspirations. Cram and Fer- guson, “The Architects’ Description of the Chapel Designs,” PAW, November 23, 1921, 180. The Princeton Chapel also bears resemblance to the chapel at Winchester College. Regarding Cram’s deep sympathy for Roman Catholicism, one Catholic journal lamented, “God alone understands why Cram did not embrace the faith.” Quoted in Douglass Shand-Tucci, Ralph Adams Cram: Life and Architecture, vol. 2, An Architect’s Four Quests: Medieval, Modernist, American, Ecumenical (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 2005), 435. 9 Shand-Tucci, Church Building in Boston, 49. 10 Cram, “Architectural and Spiritual Aspects of the Chapel,” 988. Cram’s Gothic predecessors at Princeton included William Potter (the “Tudor Gothic” East Pyne, 1897) and Walter Cope and John Stewardson (Blair Hall, 1897). 11 To illustrate his perspective, Cram used the analogy of someone confronted by a stream with no bridge in sight. Instead of directly leaping, “he retraces his steps, gains his running start, and clears the obstacle at a bound. This is what we architects are doing when we fall back on the great past for our inspiration; this is what, spe- cifically, the Gothicists are particularly doing. We are getting our running start, we are retracing our steps to the great Christian Middle Ages, not that there we may re- main, but that we may achieve an adequate point of departure.” Quoted in Shand- Tucci, Church Building in Boston, 54. 12 Cram, “Architectural and Spiritual Aspects of the Chapel,” 988. 474 4. Albert M. Friend in military uniform, ca. 1915–1919. Historical Photo- graph Collection, Campus Life Series, box  206, Princeton University Archives, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections, Princeton University Library. of Art and Archaeology and through the 1920s was promoted to as- sistant professor, associate professor, and curator of medieval art. Through frequent visits to the libraries of France and Italy, he had long immersed himself in the medieval and Byzantine thought that so informs the Chapel.13 When the iconography of the Chapel was first considered, it was Friend, not Cram, who indicated to President John Grier Hibben “the way, it seems to me, such a gigantic and important scheme should be attacked,” 14 and many of his initial sketches for the win- dows survive (fig. 5). Cram deferred to Friend as the “professional ad- visor at Princeton on iconography and stained glass,” and promised to advise all stained-glass artists to work “in accordance with your scheme.” 15 Dorothy Boyd Thomas, in the preface to an early guide to the Princeton Chapel, encapsulates Friend’s role in its construction: “Both a leading art historian and a man of faith, he [Friend] was re- sponsible for the iconographic plan for the windows of the chapel.” Even the windows placed after Friend’s death, she affirms, “were all part of Professor Friend’s plan.” 16 To highlight Friend’s role, it is not necessary to pit him against Cram. As Cram and his partner Frank Ferguson wrote in prepara- tion to build the Chapel, “An undertaking such as this is one greater than the capacities of any architect, and the building must represent the enthusiastic cooperation of those poignant interests which are in- volved.” 17 Accordingly, many individuals had an influence on the Chapel iconography, including Cram, Hibben, artist Charles Con- nick, and donors such as Robert Garrett and Albert Milbank—but 13 Like Cram, Friend was not unappreciative of modern art or thought. His pa- pers in the Manuscripts Division of the Princeton University Library (0924) attest that he took many courses in modern art at Princeton and taught the subject as well. 14 Albert M. Friend to President Hibben, n.d., box 9 (brown envelope of “stained glass notes”), Office of the Dean of Religious Life and the Chapel Records, 1906– 1981 (144), Princeton University Archives, Department of Rare Books and Spe- cial Collections, Princeton University Library (hereafter Chapel Records). 15 Ralph Adams Cram to Messrs. Reynolds, Francis & Rohnstock, January 24, 1929, and Cram to Albert M. Friend, November 27, 1926, box 10, Chapel Records. 16 A. M. Friend, The Princeton Chapel (1955; reprint, Princeton: University League, 1966). The windows listed by Thomas are the Creation window (1957), the window of God and His Righteousness (1958), and the Theology window (1963). 17 Cram and Ferguson, “Architects’ Description of the Chapel Designs,” 179. 476 5. Albert Friend’s initial sketches for the south clerestory (left ) and Great East Win- dow (right ). Photographs by the author. Chapel Records, box 9. Friend’s contribution was primus. He was the chief mind behind the glass, wood, and stone of “the finest Gothic interior in America.” 18 This is not the place for an exhaustive survey of the Chapel’s com- plex iconography. The Chapel of Princeton University (1971), by Professor of Architecture Richard Stillwell, and the Web site of the Office of Religious Life make such information readily available.19 Stillwell’s book, however, is iconographical; that is, it is primarily concerned with the important task of identifying figures and themes. To use the classic formula of another Princeton scholar, Erwin Panofsky, I hope 18 Friend, The Princeton Chapel. 19 Richard Stillwell, The Chapel of Princeton University (Princeton: Princeton Uni- versity Press, 1971). The Chapel Web site, including a  guide and audio tours, can be found at the following address: http://www.princeton.edu/religiouslife/ chapel/history/tour-the-chapel-on-line/. 477 to take a description of the Chapel from the iconographic level to the iconological one. For Panofsky, this meant “iconography turned interpretive … a method … which arises from synthesis rather than analysis.” Requiring closer attention to historical context, iconology involves “the search for intrinsic meanings or content.” 20 By surveying what Stillwell did not cover, the historical context of the Chapel’s construction and the various influences upon Friend, a new iconological interpretation of the Chapel emerges. I shall argue that the Chapel is a carefully arranged defense of traditional Chris- tianity addressed to skeptical students of the “lost generation,” who, for the first time in Princeton’s history, no longer had to attend daily chapel. My strategy is threefold. First, I will examine the historical context of the Chapel’s construction. Second, I will give an overview of Friend’s argument by surveying the Chapel’s iconography. Third, I will use representative incidents to show how Friend fielded the vary- ing influences on his overall plan from a gifted artist (Charles J. Con- nick) and an influential donor (Albert Milbank). Friend’s successful handling of these sensitive relationships is what ensured that his vi- sion for the Princeton University Chapel would prevail.     :          Friend’s argument cannot be fully understood without grasping the situation that faced President John Grier Hibben (1861–1933), under whose direction the Chapel was constructed. Hibben was Princeton’s last president who was also a theologian, yet he presided over an in- creasingly secular domain.21 Already by 1897, when President Fran- 20 Erwin Panofsky, Meaning in the Visual Arts: Papers in and on Art History (1955; re- print, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1982), 32, 39. Recent developments in the discipline of art history—be they deconstructive or anthropological—can be read, I believe, as a deepening, not a subversion, of iconology. 21 For a more complete history of religious observance at Princeton, see Bush and Kemeny, “Princeton University Chapels,” and William K. Selden, Chapels of Prince- ton University (Princeton: Trustees of Princeton University, 2005). The best short take on Princeton’s secularization continues to be George M. Marsden, The Soul of the American University: From Protestant Establishment to Established Nonbelief (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 196–233. A more detailed study is P. C. Kemeny, Princeton in the Nation’s Service: Religious Ideals and Educational Practice, 1868–1928 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998). 478 cis Landy Patton and faculty members signed a petition for a liquor license for the Princeton Inn, it was said that “the college of Dickin- son and Edwards and Witherspoon had yielded to the secularizing influences of the day.” 22 Furthermore, Woodrow Wilson, Princeton’s first president who was not ordained, had abolished denomination tests for faculty in 1906, loosening the Protestant grip on the curricu- lum. And yet, required daily chapel attendance, a tradition for well over 150 years, continued in the face of both prank and protest, which included bouts of foot scraping, a calf once tied to the pulpit, and the tarring of the seats of the “Old Chapel.” The rebellion culminated in a 1914 episode of spontaneous group bronchitis timed to coincide with an excessively long prayer.23 The gentle-mannered Hibben took a unique approach to this di- lemma. Perhaps wary of the frictions caused by strong-handed ad- ministrations in Princeton’s past, he abolished daily chapel atten- dance in 1915.24 Five years later, when Marquand Chapel burned, so did the last architectural expression of required daily chapel.25 In its place, Hibben sought to build a structure capable of compelling students to enter voluntarily. An issue of the Princeton Alumni Weekly published in conjunction with the dedication of the new Chapel con- tains repeated expressions of this sentiment. “The average Princeton undergraduate … has been inclined to resent the institution of com- pulsory attendance at Chapel services,” wrote a senior of the Class of 1928. “Given the new Chapel, he is wondering whether the co- ercive measure will be rescinded, and whether the Chapel services 22 Thomas Jefferson Wertenbaker, Princeton, 1746–1896 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1946), 374–75. 23 Alexander Leitch, A Princeton Companion (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978), 85–89. Interestingly, one of the ringleaders of the bronchitis affair later be- came a professor of theology. The “Old Chapel” was the College’s first freestanding chapel, built in 1847 and torn down in 1897 to make way for East Pyne. 24 However, attendance at a minimum of half of the semester’s Sunday services would be required for upperclassmen until 1935, for sophomores until 1960, and for freshman until 1964. According to the trustees, the decision to abolish mandatory attendance completely was made “in the best interests of a freer, more honest, cre- ative expression of religion.” Quoted in Leitch, A Princeton Companion, 87. 25 Bush and Kemeny suggest that “the destruction of the Marquand Chapel sym- bolized the demise of Evangelical Protestant values at the modern Princeton … [al- though] it would be a mistake to conclude that Princeton had become a thoroughly secular university.” Bush and Kemeny, “Princeton University Chapels,” 341. 479 will not be made so beautiful, in proportion to the new surround- ings, that his own aesthetic sense will urge him to attend.” 26 Cram himself expressed a similar idea. “I am not concerned now to argue … for anything resembling ‘compulsory chapel’ … [the] Princeton Chapel must make its appeal to free-will and compel acceptance by the strength of its dynamic power.” 27 An editorial in the same issue hammers home the point. The “objective must be so to conduct the chapel and chapel services … that the average undergraduate will go to chapel not on half the Sundays because he has to, but on one Sun- day or on every Sunday because he wants to.” 28 But luring members of the “lost generation” to daily chapel on their own accord was easier said than done. Attendance at Sunday services was still required, a fact that ensured lingering student re- sentment. As one historian has remarked, “During the febrile, skepti- cal 1920s, when ‘campuses were generally not very devout,’ and H. L. Mencken and his American Mercury assailed the old pieties, ‘puritan- ism,’ and the Bible Belt, required chapel did not call forth the most worshipful behavior from Princeton undergraduates.” 29 Students showed their dissatisfaction by studying or sleeping through services. The irreligious mood of the time was symbolized by the toppling of The Christian Student statue by drunken students in both 1929 and 1930.30 It was also tracked by statistics. A 1927 Daily Princetonian sur- vey, taken as the new Chapel was being built, found that students would choose theism over atheism by 973 to 101, but that agnosti- 26 Bosley F. Crowther, “An Undergraduate Looks at the Chapel,” PAW, May 25, 1928, 990. 27 Cram, “Architectural and Spiritual Aspects of the Chapel,” 989. 28 Bushnell et al., “What Is to Be Done with the New Chapel?” 995. This senti- ment can be found outside of Princeton as well. Following the Chapel’s construction in 1928, one journal pointed to chapels nationwide where students could attend “un- mindful of the question as to whether their attendance is ‘voluntary’ or ‘required’ or ‘compulsory.’ ” “College Chapel, 1930,” Christian Education 13, no. 5 (February 1930), 269. 29 James Axtell, The Making of Princeton University: From Woodrow Wilson to the Present (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2006), 333. 30 The statue was by sculptor Daniel Chester French, who also sculpted John Har- vard in Cambridge and Abraham Lincoln in the Lincoln Memorial. Following the second incident, it was removed to storage for several decades, then loaned to the French museum in Stockbridge, Mass., and finally placed in Jadwin Gymnasium in 1987, where it remains today. Axtell, The Making of Princeton University, 335. 480 cism won over theism by a margin of 573 to 525.31 Most indicative of this spiritual decline was the dissolution of the Philadelphian Society in 1929, which had been the chief organ of evangelical influence on campus, once so strong that Princeton could, at times, resemble an “Ivy League Bible College.” 32 Student skepticism in the 1920s was well represented by novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald, who had himself complained of campus funda- mentalism as a Princeton undergraduate. In March 1920, shortly be- fore This Side of Paradise went on sale, he wrote to the Princeton Alumni Weekly to protest Hibben’s proposal to earmark a portion of the funds raised by an endownment campaign to the Philadelphian Society: “Princeton lives by its statesmen and artists and scientists—even by its football teams—but not by its percentage of puritans in every graduating class.” 33 Many Princeton students in the late 1920s were disillusioned with failed Wilsonian ideals, contemptuous of Victorian mores, and swept along by what one contemporary observer called “a wave of spiritual depression and religious skepticism, widespread and devastating.” 34 Far from surrendering to this irreligious mood, Princeton’s Prot- estant establishment sought to tactically resist it. Faced with the dis- sipation of the College of New Jersey’s nineteenth-century evangeli- cal atmosphere, Princeton University under Hibben in the late 1920s offered what one historian calls “a new sacred canopy made up of a new enlightenment synthesis of Protestant liberalism, modern sci- ence, and democracy, under which to unite the student body and ultimately the nation.” 35 The Princeton University Chapel, quite lit- erally, was to be that canopy. Hibben promised that the new Chapel 31 Daily Princetonian, March 3, 1927, 1. 32 The Philadelphian Society had been weakened by a controversy surrounding the Lutheran evangelist Frank Buchman. See Dan Sack, “Disastrous Disturbances: Buchmanism and Student Religious Life at Princeton, 1919-1930” (Ph.D. diss., Princeton University, 1995). For more on the dissolution, see M. M. Coburn, “The Philadelphian Society: An Investigation into the Demise of an Evangelical Student Christian Organization at Princeton University in the 1920s” (Senior Thesis, De- partment of History, Princeton University, 1991). The Student Christian Associa- tion took up the society’s volunteer activities. 33 F. Scott Fitzgerald, Letter to the Editor, PAW, March 10, 1920, 514. 34 Walter M. Horton, Theism and the Modern Mood (New York: Harper, 1930), quoted in Kemeny, Princeton in the Nation’s Service, 202. 35 Kemeny, Princeton in the Nation’s Service, 195. 481 would be “the University’s protest against the materialistic philoso- phy and drift of our age.” 36 Cram, in perfect step, saw the Princeton campus plan as a “walled city against materialism and all its works” (albeit, “with a ‘way out’ into the broadest and truest liberty”).37 But at Princeton in the late 1920s, the materialists were already within the gate. This is why Friend’s role in the Chapel iconography proved so crucial. A devout Christian himself, Friend used the wood, glass, and stone of the Chapel to carefully dismantle materialist ob- jections to Christian faith and to articulate Princeton’s synthesis be- tween Christian faith and modern thought. Each of the objections a skeptical student might have to traditional faith would be addressed. Cram hoped that Gothic architecture would bring back “once more into undergraduate life those supra-material, supra-intellectual forces which … add so immeasurably to the joy and the fullness of life.” 38 But skeptical undergraduates would need more than an appeal to higher forces; they needed arguments, and a beautifully constructed argument is just what Friend’s iconographical layout provides.   The Tympana Friend was a mesmerizing lecturer—a faculty colleague once said that “his deeply religious commitment had a hypnotic effect on some students”—but he left few writings.39 We are fortunate, therefore, to have a published article by Friend that spells out the overall design of 36 John G. Hibben, “The Proposed New Chapel,” PAW, November 23, 1921, 179. 37 Cram, “Princeton Architecture,” 24. 38 Cram, “Architectural and Spiritual Aspects of the Chapel,” 987. 39 Kurt Weitzmann, Sailing with Byzantium from Europe to America: The Memoirs of an Art Historian (Munich: Editio Maris, 1994), 109; Elizabeth Ann C. Knapp, pref- ace to Friend, The Princeton Chapel. One could suggest that Friend’s lack of published work is compensated for by his other accomplishments, such as the building here under discussion. In addition, Friend served as the director of studies at Dumbar- ton Oaks for ten years, organized photographic expeditions to Mount Athos, over- saw two publication series, chaired the Department of Art and Archaeology sev- eral times, and helped Charles Rufus Morey to launch the Index of Christian Art. George H. Forsyth Jr., “Albert M. Friend Jr. 1894–1956,” College Art Journal 16, no. 4 (1957), 341. 482 the Chapel iconography, written to coincide with the Chapel’s 1928 dedication.40 Many of the windows were incomplete at this time, and Friend forecasts what is not yet in place. He begins with the Chapel’s tympana, which together constitute a synecdoche of the Chapel’s overall message. The west tympanum is remarkably similar to that of Chartres Cathedral (figs. 6 and 7), a layout that may have been Friend’s idea, not Cram’s.41 Twenty-four colonial-looking elders, two adoring angels, and four creatures rep- resenting the four Gospels surround Christ, who is seated holding a scroll upon which is written, in Greek, “Who is worthy to open the Book?” This quotation from the book of Revelation can be un- derstood more broadly as the question students may ask themselves about life’s purpose. Friend’s answer is not an abstract one, but an evangelical appeal to the Gospels: “The life of each man owes its re- ality and fulfillment to the knowledge of Jesus Christ. His Life and His Teaching must be the pattern and the inspiration to every man. Let him, therefore, read the Book, i.e., the Gospels, in which this knowledge is recorded.” 42 In this statement Friend reveals the two chief themes of the Chapel: the Life of Christ, comprising the northern windows, and the Teaching of Christ, the southern ones (fig. 8). Friend explains that the northern windows are anchored in the tympanum of the north portal (facing Firestone Library), which depicts the annunciation, the beginning of Christ’s life. Likewise, the southern windows are an- chored in the tympanum of the south portal, which depicts Christ’s baptism and the beginning of his teaching ministry. As if Friend is appealing to passers-by who might dismiss the building, the entirety of the window scheme is revealed in the three exterior portals. 40 Albert M. Friend, “The Sculpture and Glass of the Chapel,” PAW, May 25, 1928, 991. Drafts of his unpublished “chapel talks” in the archives will be refer- enced as well. 41 Hibben quotes Cram in a letter to Friend: “So far as I am concerned, Professor Friend’s suggestion for the tympanum of the main entrance to the chapel is imme- diately accepted. I think the idea admirable to a degree, and will see that the stone is blocked sufficiently to permit carving at some future time.” John Grier Hibben to A. M. Friend, March 29, 1926, box 9, Chapel Records. Friend noted that the empty lunettes on both sides of the tympanum were intended to have sculptures of the four gospel writers. Friend, “Sculpture and Glass of the Chapel,” 991. 42 Friend, “Sculpture and Glass of the Chapel,” 991. 483 6. West tympanum of Chartres Cathedral. Photograph by Lance Uyeda. Used with permission. 7. West tympanum of the Princeton University Chapel. Photograph by the author. The Windows The Princeton Chapel windows have been called “sermons in glass,” 43 intended to counter the standard objections to religious faith, the most basic of which is the problem of evil. If God is all-powerful and all-good, why is there suffering? Such an objection, I believe, was on Friend’s mind as he presented the great Hebrew response to the prob- lem of evil, the book of Job. The story begins up the north stairway of the narthex and ends up the south stairway, where the arguments of Job’s friends are refuted and God addresses his afflicted servant from the whirlwind of holy wisdom, a bewildering counter-question to human questioning of divine intent (fig. 9). Friend’s lectures on the book of Job often drew large crowds of students into the Chapel, a tradition that these carefully argued windows reflect.44 The main theme of the Chapel then opens up in the nave (see fig. 8). Here Friend suggests not only that God would respond to Job, but that he would become one, by taking on human flesh and the con- sequent suffering. The Life and Teaching of the incarnate Christ, foreshadowed by the tympana, is here articulated in glass. The north aisle, anchored by the north tympanum, shows four arcade windows depicting Christ’s life, from the nativity through the entry into Je- rusalem. An image of the entry into Jerusalem, in Friend’s words, is “customary at the entrance to the crossing and choir, the more sa- cred parts of the Chapel.” 45 The story of Christ’s life is resumed in the Marquand Transept on the north side, where twenty-four apsidal medallions depict Christ’s passion and resurrection. Above the north arcade windows, the clerestory depicts, in Friend’s words, the “Spiri- tual Life of the Jewish people from the Old Testament, a parallel to and a preparation for the Life of Christ represented below.” 46 In the first of these windows, the Adam and Eve scene, Satan is intention- ally depicted as “a glittering serpent with human head and arms … a subtle, ingratiating and charming personality.” 47 A sketch in the 43 [Albert M. Friend?], “The Windows which Mr. Connick designed and made for the Chapel,” typescript (2 pages; brown paper in black folder), May 21, 1932, box 9, Chapel Records. 44 Weitzmann, Sailing with Byzantium, 583. 45 46 Friend, “Sculpture and Glass of the Chapel,” 991. Ibid. 47 Anonymous, “Clerestory Window—Princeton University Chapel,” typescript (4 pages), March 1957, manila folder, box 9, Chapel Records. 485  N The Princeton University Chapel NW NE W Enjoy a self-guided tour of the chapel by using this map and reading the accompanying description. A free audio version of this tour SW E cn be downloaded at Princeton’s Office of Religious Life website (http://web.princeton.edu/sites/chapel/tours.html). Please be SE aware that some parts of the chapel are accessible only to the guided tour. For tour information, please call (609) 258-3047. S Binoculars are a great help! NORTHWEST DOOR 29 26 2 28 4 3 22 23 24 25 27 16 21 17 18 19 20 13 43 A B C D E F FRONT 1 NARTHEX NAVE CHOIR 30 L K J I H G 15 14 5 36 35 34 33 32 TRANSEPT ROTHSCHILD 37 ARCH 11 12 10 42 41 40 39 38 VESTRY 8 7 SOUTHWEST 31 9 DOOR ACCESSIBLE ENTRY RAMP 8. Plan of the Chapel windows. Design by Jill E. Moraca. Used with permission of the Educational Technologies Center, Princeton University (key facing). 6 MATHER SUNDIAL For more information visit: http://web.princeton.edu/sites/chapel/PUChapel.html PrincetonUniversity Map Key 1 Front Door - West Door 15 Princeton Prayer 29 The Great North Window 2 Northwest Door 16 Adam and Eve Window 30 The Great East Window 3 John of Damascus Window 17 God’s Righteousness Window 31 The Great South Window 4 Fra Angelico Window 18 God’s Law and Wisdom Window 32 Philosophy Window 5 Rothschild Arch 19 Lord of Hosts Window 33 Theology Window Chivalry Window 6 Mather Sundial 20 Prophets of Judgment Window 34 Chivalry Window 7 Yale Bulldog Gutter 21 Prophets of Messiah Window 35 Poetry Window 8 Southeast Door Window 22 Annunciation and Nativity Window 36 Law Window 9 Adlai Stevenson Window 23 Temptation Window 37 Science Window 10 Southwest Door 24 Three Healings Window 38 Sermon on the Mount Window 1 11 Holy Family Window 25 Peter Sinks Window 39 Sermon on the Mount Window 2 12 Al-Razi Window 26 Passion of Christ Window 40 Wedding Feast Window 13 Book of Job Window 1 27 Resurrection Window 41 Talents Window 14 Book of Job Window 2 28 Blessed Sacrament Chapel 42 Wise and Foolish Virgins Window 43 The Great West Window For more information visit: http://web.princeton.edu/sites/chapel/PUChapel.html PrincetonUniversity 9. Details of the Job window (south stairway of narthax). Photographs by the author.  10. Albert Friend’s sketch of the creation window. Chapel Records, box 9. archives reveals that the design was Friend’s (fig. 10).48 Faith can be made plausible, the Chapel appears to be suggesting, only when the allure of doubt is understood. In the arcade windows of the south aisle the teachings of Christ are depicted directly across from the windows illustrating his life. In effect, this relationship between the life and teaching windows an- ticipates the skeptic’s charge of Christian hypocrisy with an admo- nition to “practice what you preach.” Friend found his text for the south windows in the Gospel of Matthew, devoting two windows to the Sermon on the Mount and three to that Gospel’s parables. Above 48 The window was executed by the Willet Stained Glass Company of Philadelphia. 489 the windows of Christ’s teaching are six windows that “represent the whole of human knowledge, under the divisions of Philosophy, The- ology, Chivalry, Poetry, Science, and Government” (see fig. 5).49 In the philosophy window, thinkers critical of traditional Christianity such as Spinoza, Hume, Descartes, and Kant are all included. Even more unusual is the depiction of Athena above Plato and Zeus in the oculus. By playing host to such figures, the Chapel contends that criti- cism of religion should be engaged, not suppressed. Overall, the south clerestory suggests that no discipline is outside the scope of Chris- tian faith, an approach to learning modeled by the wide interests of Friend himself.50 Science and Religion in Harmony In the 1920s, while the Scopes trial (1925) unfolded and the Chapel was under construction, Princeton preserved its long tradition of har- monizing science and religion. Walter Minto, one the College of New Jersey’s first science professors, declared in his 1788 inaugural ad- dress: “Instead of these sciences being hurtful to religion and moral- ity, they will be found to be of the greatest advantage to them… In- deed I consider a student of … science as engaged in a continued act of devotion…” 51 Princeton President James McCosh (1811–1894), who appears in bronze in the Chapel’s north transept, was famous for positing that Darwin’s theory of evolution was no more harm- ful to his faith than the law of gravity. McCosh resisted those who opposed evolution on religious grounds with Aristotelian precision: 49 Friend, “Sculpture and Glass of the Chapel,” 991. At the Chapel’s dedication, only the window dedicated to chivalry was in place. The difference between the original conception and the final installation was a change that placed science last in order, a move that, we shall see, has great significance. 50 By many accounts, Friend displayed a broad scope of learning well beyond his specialization in visual art. “He was very keenly aware of the dangers of narrow specialization,” according to his Dumbarton Oaks obituary, and believed that “a knowledge of all the humanities was essential… He was instrumental therefore in broadening the scope of the studies, which had been focused primarily on the arts, to include in an increasing measure history and law, theology and philosophy, litera- ture, liturgy and music.” “Albert Mathias Friend, Jr. (1894–1956),” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 12 (1958), i–ii. Likewise, Weitzmann writes of “his charm and learnedness over an extraordinarily wide range, which was reflected in his exceptionally large private library, covering many fields even beyond the humanities.” Weitzmann, Sailing with Byzantium, 107. 51 Quoted in Wertenbaker, Princeton, 1746–1896, 95. 490 “We are not precluded from seeking and discovering a final cause, because we have found an efficient cause.” 52 President Hibben, along with other faculty members at Princeton in the 1920s, perpetuated this attitude, even to the point of criticizing William Jennings Bryan’s resistance to teaching evolution in public schools.53 Accordingly, the Chapel windows directly address the supposed rift between science and religion, a frequent objection of skeptical students, both in the 1920s and today. The order of the University disciplines originally presented by Friend was changed, I believe intentionally, so that the science win- dow would be in harmony with the creation window directly across from it. No other two windows in the Chapel share the unmistak- able configuration of three large figures surrounded by eleven medal- lions (fig. 11). An allegorical figure in the oculus of the science win- dow, “Scientia,” harmonizes with the same oculus across the nave, in which the dove of the Holy Spirit hovers over the waters.54 Likewise, the circles of the moments (not days) of creation are paired with cir- cles of the scientists directly across, whose investigations explore the mysteries of God’s creation. These include Aristotle, Roger Bacon, Galileo (who also appears in the Great West Window), Blaise Pascal, Isaac Newton, William Harvey, Louis Pasteur, and Joseph Henry, who taught at Princeton from 1832 to 1842 and went on to become the first director of the Smithsonian Institution.55 Henry summarized 52 Quoted in Jon H. Roberts, Darwinism and the Divine in America: Protestant Intel- lectuals and Organic Evolution, 1859–1900 (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1988), 19–20. But while defending evolution to the consternation of his co-religion- ists, McCosh at the same time assailed the “Social Darwinist” rhetoric of inferior races by invoking “the spirit of Him who stood by the weak against the strong” (ibid., 189). 53 Kemeny, Princeton in the Nation’s Service, 208. 54 One thinks here of McCosh’s suggestion in defense of the Genesis account: “Suppose that the opening chapter of Genesis, all unknown before, were discovered and published in our day. It would at once be denounced as a forgery, constructed by one who knows geological science, and who varies the record simply to keep the trick from being detected.” McCosh, The Religious Aspect of Education (1888), quoted in Marsden, Soul of the American University, 205–6. 55 This window alone was the subject of a newspaper article, whose author pro- claimed, “Nothing finer than the series of stained glass windows for the chapel has ever been done in this country.” A. J. Philipott, “Princeton Chapel Window on View: Charles J. Connicks’s Work for the University Memorial,” Boston Evening Tran- script, August 17, 1932. 491 11. The science window in the south clerestory (left ) and the creation window in the north clerestory (right ). Photographs by the author. the theme of these two clerestory windows when he remarked, “[T]he person who thought that there could be any real conflict be- tween science and religion must be very young in science or very ignorant of religion.” 56 The Milbank Choir Yet another objection that students might have to Christianity is the state of the Christian church, woefully fractured by internal strife. At the Chapel’s dedication, President Hibben announced that the build- ing “has consciously striven to enter into what we regard as the true artistic heritage of Christendom as a whole, without respect to sec- tional divisions or partial or petty emphasis.” 57 Likewise, the first Dean of the Chapel, Robert R. Wicks, insisted that Princeton’s pro- gram of religious education was “free from all denominational nar- rowness and sectarian propaganda.” 58 Friend’s scheme in wood and glass attempts to realize these ide- als. At the high altar of the Milbank Choir, exquisite figures carved in pollard oak from Sherwood Forest invoke Wilson’s vision of mar- rying Princeton’s past to the world. The figures “indicate the line of succession from Apostolic days to the founding of Princeton” (fig. 12).59 On the upper left is Saint Peter, followed by Columba, who brought Christianity to the Celtic lands beyond the boundaries of the Roman Empire. Below, Gregory the Great sends Saint Augustine of Canterbury to England, and so Christianity migrated to what would become English-speaking lands. Above on the right is John Wycliffe, who translated the Bible into English, then John Calvin, whose ideas were brought to Scotland by John Knox (below). The final figure, Jonathan Edwards, completes the journey to Princeton. An ecumeni- cal intention can be discerned here as well—a unification of Catholic figures on the north side and figures associated with Protestantism on the south side.60 56 Quoted in Charles D. Walcott, “Joseph Henry,” Science 62, no. 1610 (1925), 407. 57 John G. Hibben, “An Heritage of Holy Beauty,” PAW, June 8, 1928, 1082. 58 Robert R. Wicks, “Chapel Worship in a College,” PAW, May 25, 1928, 984. 59 [Albert M. Friend?], Dedication of the Milbank Choir (program), box 10, Chapel Records. 60 Of course, Wycliffe was not Protestant, but he has long been thought of in the Protestant tradition as proto-Protestant. I am indebted to John L. Drury for point- ing out to me that these figures read together tell the story of the gospel en route to Princeton. 494 12. The high altar and details of its wood carvings. Left (Catholic): St. Peter and Co- lumba (top); Gregory and Augustine of Canterbury (bottom). Right (Protestant): John Wycliffe and John Knox (top); John Calvin and Jonathan Edwards (bottom). Photo- graphs by the author.  This north/south ecumenical theme continues with the “four great Christian epics.” Friend lists them as Dante’s Divine Comedy, Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, Milton’s Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained, and Mal- lory’s Quest for the Holy Grail.61 As with the science window, however, Friend’s original order was changed, yielding a very important effect. Echoing the carvings of the high altar, the windows feature Catholic authors on the north side (Mallory and Dante) and Protestant ones on the south side (Bunyan, a Baptist, and Milton, a onetime Pres- byterian). In this plan Friend no doubt collaborated with Cram, a vigorous ecumenist who even hoped to design a unique, ecumenical Princeton liturgy.62 There is no space here for a detailed investiga- tion of these extraordinary windows, but an unsigned note among the Chapel records, possibly by Friend, suffices to show the attempt to give both Catholic and Protestant visions their due: Dante believed in the Mediaeval Symbolism of Color. Of course Bun- yan did not. Dante believed that pure color belonged to the righteous. Bunyan was suspicious of it, and thought it belonged to the wicked. Therefore, in comparing the two designs, it will be noticed that in Bunyan the Wicked are brilliant in color, but in Dante the Righteous are brilliant in color (and whites).63 The Milbank Choir attempts to highlight the unique aspects of Catholic and Protestant perspectives, but essential similarities emerge as well. In notes that survive from one of Friend’s Chapel talks given after the windows were in place, we learn why the crowning window of each epic does not contain the image viewers might expect, such as Dante’s beatific vision or Bunyan’s Celestial City. Instead, Christ ap- 61 Friend, “Sculpture and Glass of the Chapel,” 991. 62 Cram explained that the liturgy should be “in Latin, the ‘use’ being that pro- vided for in the Liber Precum Publicarum of the Episcopal Church, the music in the Gregorian mode, and the ceremonial consonant with the visualized architecture.” He added that he knew his idea would receive “scant sympathy and no support whatever.” Quoted in Douglass Shand-Tucci, Ralph Adams Cram: Life and Architec- ture, vol. 1, Boston Bohemia, 1881–1900 (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1995), 348. 63 [Albert M. Friend?], “The Windows which Mr. Connick designed and made for the Chapel” typescript (2 pages; brown paper in black folder), May 21, 1932, box 9, Chapel Records. This theme has been picked up more recently as well. See Wil- liam A. Dyrness, “Dante, Bunyan and the Case for a Protestant Aesthetics,” Interna- tional Journal of Systematic Theolo! 10, no. 3 ( July 2008), 285–302. 496 13. Christ as “the goal of each epic” in the Milbank Choir. On the left: the Son of God in the Milton window (above ); God the son in the Bunyan window (below). On the right: the vision of Christ in the Mallory window (above ); Christ as the “mystic rose” in the Dante window (below ). Photographs by the author. pears at the top of each window because he is, in Friend’s words, “the goal of each epic” (fig. 13).64 Pro-Catholic sentiment, however, had to be approached gingerly in Presbyterian Princeton. In a letter to Friend, Cram’s associate A. E. Hoyle explains his decision not to in- clude carvings of the Benedictine, Dominican, and Cistercian seals: “The keys of St. Peter would be less likely to cause a rising of the Klan in Princeton. After all, the keys can be held to refer to St. Peter and not the Pope.” 65 Still another ecumenical note appears in the theology 64 Albert M. Friend, notes for Chapel talks, box 10, Chapel Records. 65 A. E. Hoyle to Albert M. Friend, February 10, 1928, box 10, Chapel Records. 497 window, where the central figure is Thomas Aquinas, placed perma- nently next to John Calvin (who appears somewhat discontented). Overall, Friend’s design emerges—most especially in the Milbank Choir—as a countercultural attempt to stitch the Protestant and Catholic churches back together again with a deliberately Christo- centric ecumenism, unified by the Great East Window of Love. In my view, the extraordinary complexity of the Milbank Choir gives the Princeton Chapel claim to be one of the finest ecumenical chapels in the world. The Four Great Windows Friend wrote that the four Great Windows, located in the respective ends of the transepts and nave, are “the richest in iconography as well as in color … both the climax of the decoration and of the pictorial thought.” 66 Friend grounded each of these windows with a quotation from the teachings of Christ and chose figures that illustrate the re- spective verses. The Great East Window of Love contains a fitting passage from John 13:34–35: “A new commandment I give unto you that ye love one another as I have loved you. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples—if ye have love one to another.” This window il- lustrates the ways in which Christ enacted his new commandment, with pride of place going to his washing of Peter’s feet at the Last Supper (where the table resembles a Eucharistic wafer). This window presents a strikingly egalitarian message at the Chapel’s visual apex. “In the little roses to the right and to the left,” Friend explained, “the eternal risen Christ appears to the two Maries and to the disciples on the way to Emmaus, as he will and does appear to every woman and every man.” 67 The prominent inclusion of women is all the more surprising considering that Princeton was then an all-male school.68 66 Friend, “Sculpture and Glass of the Chapel,” 991. 67 Friend, notes for Chapel talks, 4. 68 Cram lobbied for more women in the Chapel’s program. Writing to Edward Duffield, Class of 1892 and president of the Prudential Insurance Company, he sug- gested, “Should we perhaps take two of these and put in place … St. Catherine of Alexandria and Santa Theresa? I confess I should like to get two women amongst all the masculine figures.” Cram also proposed the British nurse and hero of World War I Edith Cavell, who was not included, and Joan of Arc, who was. “This would give us two female figures well balanced in the composition.” Ralph Adams Cram to Edward D. Duffield, Esq., December 15, 1926, box 9, Chapel Records. 498  14. The Great South Window of Teaching. Photograph by the author. The windows in the south and north transepts sum up the mes- sages of their respective aisles. The Great South Window of Teaching brings the south aisle to a climax with the verse “And ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free” ( John 8:32). In this win- dow, Christ as via et veritas et vita (the way and the truth and the life) is flanked by two scenes showing two ways of grappling with doubt. On the one hand, there is Pilate’s cynical surrender, betrayed by the ques- tion, “What is truth?” On the other, there is doubting Thomas, who persists in his quest for truth to find his doubts reconciled (fig. 14). 499 The Chapel seeks to summon from the viewer an existential choice regarding which path to pursue. The Great North Window of Endur- ance encapsulates the northern aisle’s theme with the verse “He that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved” (Mark 13:13). The Great West Window, Friend suggests, “sums up and epito- mizes the whole visual experience.” Perhaps the final, even the most common, objection that undergraduates have to religion is their de- sire for freedom from religiously imposed moral boundaries. As if to refute this misperception, students leaving the Chapel are met with the Great West Window’s culminating verse, “I am come that they might have life and that they might have it more abundantly” ( John 10:10). The many figures gathered in the Great West Window, “sol- diers, poets, theologians, and kings … all realize that by Christ all life is enriched and made free.” Above them, Friend concludes, is depicted “the ultimate hope and fulfillment, the Second Coming of Christ, when Truth, Light and Life are seen face to face.” Taken to- gether, the four great windows reveal a dynamic Christian human- ism, that is, they “present in vivid form the qualities of man’s real and complete existence as exemplified and taught by Christ.” 69           It is one thing to envision a sweeping argument to convince skep- tical students. It is quite another to arbitrate among competing in- terests to enable the realization of such a vision. From an examina- tion of two representative instances of Friend’s negotiations, a figure emerges of the art historian as builder: Friend was capable of both the compromise and the resistance necessary to ensure that his vision for the Chapel would prevail. Complete and detailed documentation for each of the windows does not survive. But where it does, a picture emerges of Friend quietly guiding opinionated players in the building process toward the realization of his original scheme. Friend and Connick: Getting the Job Windows Right The correspondence between Friend and Charles J. Connick (1875– 1945) preserved in excerpts in the Princeton University Archives shows the process of collaboration by which the Job windows were 69 Friend, “Sculpture and Glass of the Chapel,” 991–92. 500 designed. Although many artists contributed to the Chapel’s win- dows, Connick had a special rapport with Cram and received the most commissions.70 Yet the details of the windows were negotiated not with his architectural supervisor, but with Friend. Connick sub- mitted to Friend a photograph of some Job windows he had designed for the Grove Cemetery Chapel in Salem, Massachusetts,71 but Friend wanted something different. In a letter to Connick, he explained the reasoning behind what must have been his original suggestions: I remember I was inspired for some of the iconography by the little metal cuts in Pigouchet’s printed Book of Hours of the late XV Cen- tury, a copy of which I own…72 In this book Pigouchet plays the Book of Job against the Dance of Death as an argument against suicide… Let’s stay away from Blake. His nature mysticism is far from the es- sential spirit of the Hebrew author. The Byzantine Greeks had excel- lent and copiously illustrated books of Job. All the miniatures exist in photos in Princeton. However, as always, these are suggestions to you. You do it your way.73 This paragraph contains in essence Friend’s entire methodology for the Chapel windows: deference to the Christian iconographical tradition (the Byzantine precedent), a hesitation to go too far toward mysticism or irrationality (as in William Blake’s more adventurous il- lustrations of Job), and an accommodation to other influences (such as Connick’s) within those prescribed boundaries. “This is really the most important book of the Old Testament and the last of the literary cycles in the Chapel,” continues Friend. “I am very anxious that the students be able to make it out.” 74 70 Connick’s style in glass was parallel to Cram’s in architecture: both sought not regurgitation, but creative continuation of the arts of the Middle Ages. Cram gave Connick his first commission and supported his career; Connick, in turn, dedicated his book Adventures in Light and Color (1937) to Cram, his chief patron. 71 Charles J. Connick to Albert M. Friend, January 28, 1936, El-Razi and John of Damascus folder, box 10, Chapel Records. 72 It should be noted that Friend amassed an impressive collection of manuscripts, coins, drawings, and other artifacts (much of which he bequeathed to Princeton), even though he was not a man of independent means. George Forsyth attributes Friend’s collection to “his catholic tastes … and keen eye for a bargain.” Forsyth, “Albert M. Friend Jr.,” 340. 73 Quoted in Orin E. Skinner to Professor Richard Stillwell, March 27, 1968, black binder, box 9, Chapel Records. Skinner was then president of Charles J. Con- 74 nick Associates. Ibid. 501  Further excerpts from this correspondence show Friend’s close involvement as he coached Connick toward the appropriate articu- lation of the theme. Sometimes Friend accommodated Connick’s sug- gestions. At the point where Job’s friends insist he must have commit- ted a secret sin to deserve such punishment, Friend is pleased with the artist’s interpretation: “Job’s hoary head is turned away from his friends… I think this is an excellent idea and should be preserved” (see fig. 9). But at other times Friend pushed back. Connick thought that Elihu, the youngest of Job’s friends, should have an entire panel to himself, but Friend’s reading of Job led to a different conclusion: “I would get rid of a special Job and Elihu panel. Elihu was about as bad as the other friends…” Revealing his familiarity with contemporary biblical criticism, Friend adds that “the whole Elihu episode is an in- terpolation into the original Book anyhow…” At other times Friend only tweaked Connick’s designs: “Job should justify his complaint by raising his arms in gesticulation against God as it were. Only this will justify God’s terrible and immediate appearance above in the whirl- wind” (see fig. 9).75 Connick’s completed window, which was made according to his designs after his death, achieved Friend’s desired effect. Job’s hands appear shrinking back, as if they had just been raised in questioning protest. In turn, God, with raised hand, questions Job. The tidy an- swers of all Job’s friends—and, we can infer, the materialist’s objec- tion to faith—have been questioned. The result is achieved because of Friend’s careful, critically informed reading of Job, as instantiated by Connick’s collaborative design. Friend and Milbank: Rationalizing the East Window? Another representative incident reveals how deliberations could go well beyond cordial dialogue between professor and artist; the in- volvement of patrons ensured a host of conflicting interests. When announcing plans for the Chapel’s construction, the Princeton Alumni Weekly noted that the building “presents a great opportunity for some generous benefactor.” 76 The Milbank family took up that opportu- nity in largest part. The directors of the Milbank Memorial Fund, named for Elizabeth Milbank Anderson (1850–1921), a wealthy heir 75 76 Ibid. PAW, November 23, 1921, 173. 502 with an impressive record of philanthropy, chose to endow the choir, the “soul of the Chapel.” Its theme of love “expressed more perfectly than in any other form a memorial to a woman whose life was char- acterized to an unusual degree by a love for humanity and by a deep Christian faith.” 77 The secretary of the fund was Albert Milbank, Princeton Class of 1896, University trustee, lawyer, and vestryman at Saint Bar- tholomew’s Episcopal Church in New York City. Whatever was to be included in the glass of the Milbank Choir required the approval of Albert Milbank and of Edward Sheldon, president of the Milbank Memorial Fund. A memorandum that details Milbank and Sheldon’s intentions shows concern that the treatment of the choir “should be not didactic but spiritual, not doctrinal but irradiated with the glory of eternal love.” 78 Here one senses a liberal Manhattan Episcopa- lian (“Broad Church”) ethos that would conflict with more tradi- tional Princeton Presbyterian ideals—with Friend caught in between. Princeton was by no means conservative theologically. Hibben, who had grown more liberal in the course of his education at both Prince- ton Seminary and Princeton University, sought to distinguish him- self from what he called the “ultra-conservative” ethos of his Semi- nary alma mater.79 But the moderate liberalism of historic Princeton was one thing, and the more radical ideas of Manhattan Episcopa- lianism quite another. Two rectors of Saint Bartholomew’s, a famously Broad Church congregation, hoped to sway their parishioner’s decisions about what to include in the Princeton Chapel’s focal window, the Great East Window of Love. Robert Norwood, Saint Bartholomew’s rector from 1925 to 1932, struck first. In a letter to Milbank, he described an evening with students from Union Theological Seminary, “advanced radicals whose thinking has led them away from religion and the Church…” Norwood believed that these students represented the fu- ture and that if Princeton wanted its new Chapel to be relevant, the building would have to accommodate radical thought. “These men 77 Edward Sheldon to Edward D. Duffield, May 4, 1928, box 9, Chapel Records. 78 Albert G. Milbank, Memorandum Regarding Stained Glass Windows in the Choir of the University Chapel at Princeton, April 27, 1927, box 10, Chapel Records. 79 Kemeny, Princeton in the Nation’s Service, 209. 503 are convinced that there is no such thing as a mystical or spiritual value; that everything can be reduced to atomic energy. Now, let the Princeton windows insist upon the union of the intellectual and the mystical.” 80 This was the Blake-style mysticism that Friend hoped to avoid, the very kind of materialism that the Chapel was being constructed to counter. Furthermore, Union Seminary radicalism had long been a flashpoint for Princeton controversy. In response to modernist ideas being taught at Princeton in the previous decade, one conservative publication had complained of a “repetition of Union Seminaryism at Princeton,” in response to which “evangelical Christians will have to … either send their boys elsewhere, forbid them to take the Bible course at Princeton, or yield them up to the baldest infidelity…” 81 Perhaps aware of such issues, the former rector of Saint Bar- tholomew’s, Leighton Parks, attempted to mitigate Norwood’s influ- ence. Although Parks does not appear to have been a fan of Cram’s architectural projects,82 he intervened by writing to Milbank in Au- gust 1926: “Mysticism and psychology are important but both are more or less fads just now and to leave to one side the emphasis on reason in a college which had Edwards and McCosh for President would be unfilial.” The letter shows that Cram’s traditional sugges- tions for the Great East Window were also in consideration. “While I agree with Mr. Cram,” Parks went on, “that the Cross and the Last Supper should be made prominent, I should not attempt to portray the Resurrection nor the Ascension because they are so easily ‘ma- terialized.’ ” Instead, “Christ blessing the children, calling the first Disciples, having His feet washed and Himself washing the Disciples 80 Robert Norwood to Albert Milbank, April 17, 1926, box 10, Chapel Records. A magazine article two years later explained that Norwood’s “church is the only fash- ionable one in Manhattan which is regularly filled every Winter Sunday” and that he “holds views which are liberal to the point of peculiarity.” “Norwood in Nova Scotia,” Time Magazine, September 10, 1928. 81 “Religious Instruction at Princeton,” Presbyterian, October 14, 1914, 4, quoted in Kemeny, Princeton in the Nation’s Service, 179. 82 For Parks, the cure for the Protestant architectural dilemma “is to be found not in an attempt to revive the splendors of the Medieval Church nor the supposed pu- rity of the mythical undivided Church of the first three centuries. It is to be cured by more Protestantism, more liberty, truer equality, and widespread fraternity.” Christine Smith, St. Bartholomew’s Church in the City of New York (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), 15. 504 feet and warning the young man against covetousness are more im- portant than the raising of the dead.” 83 Cram appeared receptive to this suggestion, explaining in a letter to Friend that he had “no objec- tion to the leaving out of the miracles of the life and healing provided equally significant subjects can be substituted.” 84 Others, however, were less sanguine about the proposed adjust- ments. Removing the original miracle scenes was a great imposition on Connick, who complained to Cram (his immediate supervisor), “I feel it will be difficult, if not impossible, to select other subjects that will so definitely enrich the spirit of the whole design.” 85 In a letter to Friend a few days earlier, Connick had been all the more forceful: I may say to you personally that I regret very much the omission of these Miracles which are sufficiently universal in their appeal to make their simple symbolical treatment logical and forceful in the design. They take their place splendidly in the whole scheme. However, I am prepared to accept the decision if it is final.86 Resigning himself to the revisions, Connick suggested placing the six works of mercy (Matthew 25:31–46) next to embodiments of those mercies, offering church historical and modern figures for each instance. The resulting compromise was similar to the one that resolved the Job windows, in that Friend vetoed part of Connick’s suggestion but took on its spirit. Friend stayed with the works of mercy theme, but amended it in a letter to Milbank: The inclusion of saints such as Elizabeth of Hungary, St. Martin, end- ing in perhaps Edith Cavell, would, to my mind, be most unfortunate. It is much better to stay within the New Testament. Of all the win- dows in the Chapel, these saints would be most out of place in the East Window.87 Instead, Friend suggested scenes from the Gospels to complement each of the works of mercy. It should be noted here that, despite the weakening of the Philadelphian Society, there was still an evangelical 83 Leighton Parks to “Bert,” August 9, 1926, box 10, Chapel Records. 84 Ralph Adams Cram to Albert M. Friend, April 28, 1927, box 10, Chapel Records. 85 Charles J. Connick to Ralph Adams Cram, May 3, 1927, box 9, Chapel Records. 86 Charles J. Connick to Albert M. Friend, April 28, 1927, box 9, Chapel Records. 87 Albert M. Friend to Albert G. Milbank, May 11, 1927, box 10, Chapel Records. 505 presence at Princeton. Perhaps with Hibben’s mission of religious consolidation in mind, Friend pushed for a scriptural precedent that would appeal to evangelicals. Indeed, Friend was proud later to point out that in the Great East Window, “the climax of the whole iconog- raphy … is expressed entirely from the Four Gospels.” 88 And yet, to satisfy the more liberal donors, the supernatural had to be duti- fully subdued. When describing the final scheme to Albert Milbank, Friend mentions that the window will include Jesus before the tomb of Lazarus, but stresses, “This is not the miracle but the episode where Jesus wept.” 89 Milbank appears to have understood that his censuring of miracles had created “quite a bit of disturbance.” He conceded to Friend that some scenes originally rejected could be included, adding, “I hope that you will, however, cling as closely as possible to the basic idea which Mr. Sheldon expressed, namely, episodes which symbolize love in its various manifestations but you can also heed Dr. Hibben’s warning of not over-emphasizing that idea.” 90 We see, therefore, that President Hibben also played a role in resisting the influence that the Saint Bartholomew congregation sought to impose on the Great East Window. But Friend was responsible for ensuring that Milbank was satisfied with the final result. These careful arbitrations enabled Friend to include, just above the “non-miracle” of Lazarus, two rather prominent miracle scenes, women and men visiting the empty tomb of Christ (fig. 15). In the last surviving correspondence related to this affair, Friend assured the donor that he had “tried to take care of all … objections,” except for one: the panel where Christ separates the sheep from the goats. Edward Sheldon apparently objected to it because of its note of judgment. Friend, however, insisted it be included. He explained to Milbank that the panel was essential to the six panels beneath it be- cause it holds the opening words of the parable that the window illus- trates. Yet, to satisfy Sheldon, he agreed to add a panel next to it that depicts Christ asking, “Simon son of Jonas lovest thou me?” and then saying “Feed my sheep.” The addition would preserve the symmetry through the theme of sheep and also “keep it from being a scene of 88 Friend, The Princeton Chapel. 89 Albert M. Friend to Albert G. Milbank, May 11, 1927, box 10, Chapel Records. 90 Albert G. Milbank to Albert M. Friend, June 1, 1927, box 10, Chapel Records. 506 15. Detail from the Great East Window of Love. Photograph by the author.  16. Detail from the Great East Window of Love. Photograph by the author. judgment and turn it into one of love” (fig. 16). Friend added, amica- bly, that he thought the new scheme “better than the last.” 91 Historian P. C. Kemeny was right to suggest that Princeton in the late 1920s found “in liberal Protestantism a faith that was more com- patible with modernity.” 92 As I have shown, the Chapel’s insistence on the harmony of science and religion and its openness to mod- ern thinkers such as Hume and Spinoza support this assertion. But Princeton’s liberal Protestantism was the more moderate kind. At the visual apex of the University’s defining monument, Friend man- aged to enshrine two notes of continuity with Princeton’s nineteenth- 91 Albert M. Friend to Albert G. Milbank, June 15, 1927, box 10, Chapel Records. 92 Kemeny, Princeton in the Nation’s Service, 221. 508 century evangelicalism, positions which, in fact, have traditionally been associated with Protestant liberalism’s fundamentalist oppo- nents: the literal resurrection and the final judgment.     After Cram completed the building of the Princeton University Chapel, he announced that “we may confidently look forward to that unending process that will give a certain life, through progres- sive growth, to what otherwise would be but an architectural essay, a static and material thing without the informing breath of life.” This second stage of construction, involving the completion of the win- dows and iconography, was “the more important task of making this building something more than an architectural factor in the compo- sition of the campus, of weaving it, in a sense, into the very fabric of undergraduate life.” 93 In this essay, I have attempted to show Professor Albert M. Friend’s chief role in that “more important task,” which Cram called “harder of achievement” because in the current generation “formal reli- gion has ceased to make that universal appeal.” 94 As we have seen, Friend’s was not the only influence on the design. Nevertheless, the records in the Princeton University Archives reveal Friend’s respon- sibility for the overall layout and his role as primus inter pares, that is, an irenic arbitrator among the personalities who hoped to influ- ence his design. At times, Friend accommodated requests, but he also resisted certain influences. The result was a sweeping visual argu- ment for Christian faith directed to student skeptics. The argument sought to defend against the problem of evil, unify religion and sci- ence, reconcile Catholic and Protestant versions of Christianity, and preserve the classic articulation of Christian faith when it was subject to amendment. Did Friend’s visual argument succeed by compelling students to at- tend voluntarily? Not necessarily. In 1929, after his first year on cam- pus, Dean of the Chapel Robert R. Wicks proposed the “abolition” of mandatory Sunday services in favor of required attendance at either half the Sunday morning services (the established policy) or Sunday evening lectures, which were less of a stumbling block to weekend 93 Cram, “Architectural and Spiritual Aspects of the Chapel,” 987. 94 Ibid. 509 trips.95 Six years later, in 1935, the Daily Princetonian published photo- graphs of the irreverent posture of undergraduates at what remained of mandatory services, which finally, according to Fortune magazine, “clinched the case against chapel with the Board of Trustees.” 96 Soon the weekly requirement was relaxed completely for upperclass- men (though it endured for sophomores until 1960, and for freshman through 1964). Religious observance at Princeton since the early decades of the twentieth century is a complicated story, summarized well by one his- torian’s remark that it has “fluctuated with national moods and stu- dent religious demography.” 97 Although a 1968 article could claim that “slowly, steadily, voluntary student [chapel] attendance … has now climbed back to compulsion-day level,” 98 by the 1970s weekly chapel attendance was down to 2–3 percent of the undergraduates, and all forms of participation in organized religion registered at only one-third of the student body. Even President William Bowen, the trustees agreed when he took office in 1972, would be among those not required to attend chapel. At the turn of the millennium, the 2–3 percent figure for student chapel participation persisted.99 This is not to say that religious life is at all moribund in twenty-first- century Princeton. In the last several decades, a variety of religious organizations, Christian and non-Christian, have “thrived in open- market competition for students’ attention,” 100 and Friend’s scheme in some ways anticipated this development. He made some remarkable strides toward including non-Christian religions, although presenting them firmly within the parameters of orthodox Christian faith. In a prominent depiction of Abraham, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam are each accommodated: “In his hand is a scroll bearing the symbols, the star of David, the Latin Cross and the crescent … since Abraham was the Patriarch of three great faiths—the Jews, the Christians and the Mohammedans” (fig. 17).101 Another accommodation to Islam 95 Kemeny, Princeton in the Nation’s Service, 218. 96 Quoted in Axtell, Making of Princeton University, 337. 97 Ibid. 338. 98 “The Religious Scene: Now Chapel Attendance Is Back Up,” PAW, February 6, 1968, 6–9. 99 Axtell, Making of Princeton University, 340. 100 Kemeny, Princeton in the Nation’s Service, 233. 101 Henry Lee Willet, undated letter describing “God’s Righteousness” window, 510 17. Abraham (center ) in the north clerestory window. Photograph by the author. appears in the narthex. The Al-Razi window, dedicated to medicine, contains an inscription reading, in Arabic, “In the name of Allah, the Merciful, the Compassionate” (fig. 18).102 A letter from Connick to Friend indicates that the window and its inscription were early se- lections, not later insertions from a Princeton that had become more religiously diverse.103 This irenic attitude toward Islam does not mask its differences with Christianity, of which Friend would have been in- timately aware. Rather, in the pursuit of the Chapel’s chief quest—its “protest against materialism”—Islam can be regarded not as a rival, but as an ally, and hence has an appropriate place. Still, the consequence of this welcome plurality, even if it is fore- shadowed in the windows, is the dissolution of Hibben’s original hope. Although the Princeton Chapel today is open to all and is used by many, it no longer serves as the sole, consolidating, liberal Prot- estant focal point of Princeton’s religious life. Interestingly, the most surprising of the Chapel’s windows can be said to predict this state of affairs. At first look, the third bay of the south arcade (fig. 8, no. 40) seems a rather straightforward treatment of the parable of the wed- ding feast (fig. 19). In the middle lancet is the king from Matthew 22 who “sent forth his servants to call them that were bidden to the wed- ding: and they would not come” (22:3). The formal invitees were too busy “and went their ways, one to his farm, another to his merchan- dise” (22:5). To the left of the king are those who refused to attend the feast, and to the right is the offended king demanding that his servants “Go ye unto the highways… As many as ye shall find bid to the marriage” (22:9). The window goes on to depict the king’s anger at the one guest who did come, but without a proper garment. What seems, at least in my investigations, to have escaped notice is the in- tentional resemblance of the king to Ralph Adams Cram, a likeness made all the more obvious by the prominent dedication in glass at the foot of the window: “In honor of Ralph Adams Cram, Architect” (figs. 20 and 21). The window is both a prediction of the Chapel’s infrequent use box 9 (multicolored folder), Chapel Records. Willet was president of the Willet Stained Glass Studios in Philadelphia. 102 Stillwell, Chapel of Princeton University, 99. 103 Charles J. Connick to “Brother Friend,” April 6, 1936, El Razi and John of Damascus folder, box 10, Chapel Records. 512 18. The Al-Razi window in the narthax. Photograph by the author. 19. The Parable of the Wedding Feast, south arcade. 20. Ralph Adams Cram, 1931 (top left ). Courtesy of H D B /Cram and Ferguson Inc. 21. Details of the king in the south arcade (top right and bottom ). Photographs by the author. 22. Professor Albert Mathias Friend Jr. Photograph by Elizabeth G. C. Menzies. Record of the Princeton University Art Museum 15, no. 2 (1956), 32. and an admonition to not use it lightly. The window might also serve as a chastisement to Princeton’s onetime Protestant establishment, the invited guests who would not attend the visual feast prepared by Cram and Friend. In addition the window forecasts the Chap- el’s usage today by “as many as ye shall find,” that is, by those who have traditionally inhabited the sidelines of Princeton’s religious life. One thinks here, for example, of the contemporary resurrection of the daily chapel tradition at Princeton, albeit in the form of Roman Catholic Mass.104 Indeed, this twist in the window program, incorporating Cram’s likeness, brings to mind the remark once made about Albert Friend, that “the more humorously he presented his opinion, the more seri- ous he was.” It was said of Friend, “his infectious laugh heard down the corridors of McCormick Hall was as good a trail by which to find him as the aroma of his pungent pipe” (fig. 22).105 The more perma- nent trail is the remarkable iconographic argument of the Princeton University Chapel. 104 For a treatment of the mid-twentieth-century controversy surrounding Cathol- icism’s place in Princeton life, see Kemeny, Princeton in the Nation’s Service, 221–34. 105 E.T.D. (Ernst T. DeWald) and F.F.J. (Frances Follin Jones), “Albert Mathias Friend, Jr.: February 27, 1894 – March 23, 1956,” Record of the Art Museum, Princeton University 15, no. 2 (1956), 31. 517