Web Exclusives:
Under the Ivy
a column by Jane Martin paw@princeton.edu
February 9, 2005:
Written
in stone
Lessons learned from campus Latin
inscriptions
One of the small pleasures of walking around Princeton’s
campus is spotting the unexpected details on campus buildings. There’s
the bulldog gargoyle on the chapel, of course; the stars for the
fallen war heroes on the dormitory window sills, and the mathematical
equations etched into the glass of the windows in old Fine Hall
(now Jones), among many examples.
A related pursuit attracted the attention of Shirley H. Weber,
a Princeton classics professor during the 1930s, who in the Jan.
14, 1938, issue of PAW wrote an article on classical inscriptions
on campus. “An Exercise in Princeton Epigraphy” described
the many Latin and Greek phrases inscribed on Princeton buildings
– some quite serious, others clever.
The “new” chapel – completed in 1928 –
is, unsurprisingly, adorned with numerous Biblical references, Weber
noted, while many other buildings memorialize war dead or Princeton
luminaries. Nassau Hall, for example, has a Latin inscription written
by Dean Andrew Fleming West (a classicist and the original dean
of the Graduate School) that reads, “Alma Mater holds in everlasting
remembrance her sons who lay down their lives for their country,”
while on Pyne Library was a tablet inscribed, “The earth lightened,
and very early they came and summoned me.” According to Weber,
this is a passage from an Egyptian papyrus, an “extract from
a story of a refugee from Egypt,” written in memory of Professor
David Paton 1874, who had translated the ancient document.
Topics get a bit lighter on Prospect Street. Campus Club, Weber
wrote, proclaims in Latin over a fireplace, “Does all seem
dull in comparison with the Campus?” a line borrowed from
Horace and replacing the “ancient Campus Martius” with
the name of the eating club. Cottage Club focuses on friendship,
with the Latin lines, “They take the sun out of the world,
who take friendship out of life,” and “Where there are
friends, there is life,” inscribed over its fireplaces.
Some academic buildings boast appropriate classical sayings. “Happy
is the man who has been able to learn the causes of things,”
reads the Latin on the Frick chemistry building, while Eno Hall,
home to the psychology department, instructs in Greek, “Know
thyself.” Weber wrote that President Francis Patton chose
the Latin words for the McCosh Infirmary: “Not to be ministered
unto, but to minister.” Over one fireplace in Procter Hall,
the Graduate College’s formal dining hall, Weber found an
inscription borrowed from a fifth-century Roman Christian house
in North Africa: “Enter good, go out better.”
Weber also noted a past inscription “now missing for some
years” that used to “stand on the famous doormat long
in position at the entrance of the Classical Seminary in [Pyne]
Library: “Wipe your feet, and go in unharmed.” That
may be a message from the original Alma Mater.
Finally, sundials have always been a rich source of pithy sayings,
and Princeton’s are no exception, according to Weber. On Pyne
Hall tower, the sundial inscription reads “Pereunt et Imputantur,”
or “The hours pass away and are placed to our account,”
a thought selected, Weber noted, by donor Moses Taylor Pyne 1877.
But the message alumni might like most to ponder – or avoid
pondering – as they stroll campus on Alumni Day, ascertaining
the continued existence of the inscriptions described by Weber,
is the one found on another sundial on what Weber described as Upper
Pyne. The face of that sundial warns: “Vulnerat Omnes Ultima
Necat,” or, referring to the hours the sundial marks, “They
all wound, the last one kills.”
Jane Martin 89 is PAW's former editor-in-chief. You can
reach her at paw@princeton.edu
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