-J 
 
GOKNELL UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARIES 
 ITHACA, N. Y. 14583 
 
 Fine Arts Library 
 Sibley Hall 
 
The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924015686698 
 
AN ADDRESS GIVEN AT COR- 
 NELL UNIVERSITY, ITHACA, 
 NEW YORK, ON MAY 31, 1912, 
 BY CLARENCE A. MARTIN T 
 UPON THE PRESENTATION 
 OF A PORT AIT OF PROFESSOR 
 CHARLES BABCOCK TO THE 
 UNIVERSITY BY THE ALUMNI 
 OF THE COLLEGE OF 
 ARCHITECTURE. 
 
- c • \ 
 
 Portrait from the painting by 
 Anna Milo Upjohn 
 
i 
 
 T5 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 §f 
 
 HE history of architecture is the 
 history of civilization; and as a 
 corollary to this I would add that 
 the study of architecture in its 
 broadest, worthiest aspect is much 
 more than the study of details and 
 technique. It is the study of man, his needs, his as- 
 pirations ; and however skilled one may become as a 
 constructor or as an artist in the manipulation of 
 building materials, he is a failure as an architect 
 unless he understands the highest needs and ideals 
 of his generation and meets these needs in his prac- 
 tice in such a way as to stimulate to still higher 
 ideals. 
 
 After spending some days in Rome a few years 
 ago I remarked to a friend that the thing that sur- 
 prised me more than anything else in Rome was to 
 find it so much a modern city. His reply came with- 
 out hesitation : "My dear fellow, Rome always has 
 been a modern city." So Architecture, always an 
 ancient art, speaking eloquently of the past, lis 
 always a new art, pulsating with life and breathing 
 out the spirit of the generation creating it. Have 
 you ever considered how unhesitatingly you judge 
 a man by the house he lives in, and how justly? 
 His house will tell you whether he is refined or 
 vulgar, an artist or a savage; and it tells the same 
 story to future generations, perhaps less distinctly, 
 but just as surely. 
 
 The development of architecture in America has 
 followed logically from the development of the peo- 
 ple, coming from an old civilization our early col- 
 onists brought with them much of culture and re- 
 finement. Among them were men skilled in the arts 
 
and crafts; and it was the logical rather than the 
 surprising thing that in spite of a new environment 
 and new materials the earliest work, crude as it was, 
 should show evidence of refinement in line and mass 
 even though lacking in elaboration of detail. Very 
 early in our history, while the esthetic spirit and 
 culture of the old were still a part of our social 
 structure we developed and adapted in our new- 
 world materials our charming Colonial Architecture 
 from memories of the Georgian Architecture of the 
 Mother Country. 
 
 What might have come had the rule of aristocracy 
 continued, no one may venture to say with author- 
 ity; but the wars of independence wrought many 
 changes. We were free indeed, and from our doors 
 stretched away beyond the knowledge of man a vast 
 country holding promise of wealth and adventure 
 unlimited. To resist would have been superhuman ; 
 so with the severance of ties binding us to the old 
 world, and the labor of bringing under control and 
 subjecting to the service of man the great wilderness 
 from the Alleghenies westward, it is small wonder 
 that in a struggle embodying so much of the purely 
 physical some of the finer things were forgotten, and 
 the sons and grandsons of the skilled artisans be- 
 came less and less skilled through the demand for 
 quantity regardless of quality in output. Thus a 
 gradual decline in the appreciation of the fine arts 
 culminated in the most debased period of American 
 Architecture about the middle of the 19th century. 
 
 Other factors contributing to this state of affairs 
 were numerous. Facilities for communication, travel, 
 and transportation between our larger centers of 
 population were necessarily meagre and inadequate. 
 Educated men in the larger cities were not brought 
 
much into contact, knew little of each other; and 
 among architects in particular there seemed to be a 
 widespread fear of unjust and improper treatment 
 at the hands of their professional brethren if oppor- 
 tunity were given for such treatment. No standards 
 of professional ethics or of practice were recognized 
 between them and naturally enough the world took 
 them at their own valuation, considering the fine arts 
 as of no importance, and giving carpenters and other 
 practical builders preference over the so-called archi- 
 tects. 
 
 But a new era was dawning. Men were beginning 
 to have more time, more money, to travel more, to 
 know more, to feel more, consequently to demand 
 more. The architects themselves were beginning to 
 appreciate the situation keenly and the better men 
 in the profession were beginning to get together for 
 discussion and were finding out that in so doing they 
 were receiving mutual benefit instead of being mu- 
 tually robbed. As a record of the change that was 
 taking place, I wish to quote from a historical note 
 that happens to be of peculiar interest on this occa- 
 sion. The note is' as follows : 
 
 "Appreciating the state into which their beloved 
 art had fallen a number of young men in New York 
 City, after many consultations, determined to organ- 
 ize an association for the advancement of architect- 
 ure. Their ideals were high. They were zealous 
 and enthusiastic, and in love with their art. 
 
 "The following architects — Richard Upjohn, Edw. 
 Gardiner, H. W. Cleveland, Wray Mould, Leopold 
 Eidlitz, Henry Dudley, Fred A. Peterson, Charles 
 Babcock, Joseph C. Wells, Richard M. Hunt, John 
 Welch, J. W. Priest — met to consider the propriety 
 
of organizing a society of architects on Monday, 
 February 23, 1857." 
 
 There were twelve of the original group and as a 
 result of this conference eighteen others were in- 
 vited in and the organization of the American In- 
 stitute of Architects was effected on April 5th of 
 the same year, 1857. Of this group of thirty men 
 nearly every one became famous in later years, and 
 I know of none more deserving of honor for dis- 
 tinguished service to his profession than our be- 
 loved Dean who, as Honorary Member of the 
 American Institute of Architects and as Corre- 
 sponding Member of the Royal Institute of British 
 Architects, is the sole survivor of that distinguished 
 group that founded the Institute in 1857 and whom 
 we delight to honor today. 
 
 It is but one of the things that mark the far sight- 
 edness and greatness of our first president, Andrew 
 Dickson White, that so early he saw the need of 
 academic training for the architect. His extended 
 service and study abroad had brought him into inti- 
 mate contact with the highest culture of the old 
 world ; he had become deeply interested in architect- 
 ure; and had collected without stint of time, labor, 
 or money, what was at the time one of the best if 
 not quite the best library in the country in the field 
 of architecture. This splendid library he gave out- 
 right to the University, and as showing his attitude 
 toward the establishment of a course in architecture 
 I can do no better than to quote his own words from 
 a report to the Board of Trustees at the time. He 
 says : "No one who has observed at all closely the 
 condition of our larger towns and villages, especially 
 those remote from the greater centers, can have 
 failed to observe the great lack, not merely of archi- 
 
tectural beauty in residence and public buildings, 
 but also waste in expenditure, inconvenience, and 
 often unhealthiness coming from careless plans or 
 lack of plans. The amount generally lavished on all 
 sorts of excrescences in painted pine, whether Corin- 
 thian columns, or Gothic pinnacles, is not merely 
 waste but it is just as certainly a positive offence 
 against taste and comfort. Our people of the vil- 
 lages and towns have felt this and as the country 
 has grown in wealth the services of architects are 
 demanded. Unfortunately, outside of the great met- 
 ropolitan cities there are very few architects who 
 are really instructed in their profession. As a rule 
 they want the fundamental characteristics which a 
 true architect should have. The result is that all 
 over the country, churches and houses are going up 
 which in twenty years will be laughed at as preten- 
 tiously ugly. To remedy this, there is, so far as I 
 can learn at present, but one architectural school in 
 the United States, that of the Massachusetts Insti- 
 tute of Technology at Boston. 
 
 "In view of these facts, it seems to me that a Col- 
 lege of Architecture is just one of those departments 
 for the combination of liberal and practical study 
 which our charter calls upon us to establish." 
 
 The recommendation of the President was adopted 
 and "Young Babcock," as I have heard him called, 
 though at that time already in the prime of life, was 
 made Professor of Architecture in 1871, only three 
 years after the founding of the University. 
 
 The new Professor of Architecture came to his 
 work with exceptional qualifications and training 
 for a man taking up this work at such a time and 
 under such conditions. A graduate of Union Col- 
 lege in a classical course, with his Master of Arts 
 
degree and a liberal training in the sciences, he had 
 taken up the study of architecture under Richard 
 Upjohn of New York, one of the most distinguished 
 architects of his time, and after five years had been 
 admitted to a partnership in the firm. He remained 
 in practice but five years more when he retired to 
 enter the ministry. During his period of practice, 
 however, we have already seen him active and prom- 
 inent in movements to elevate the profession and 
 before his retirement he had made for himself a last- 
 ing place among those who stand at the head of the 
 roll of pioneers in our profession. 
 
 Prepared as he was in the humanities and in the 
 science and technique of his profession, his task, 
 nevertheless, was a tremendous one. It was a new 
 enterprise and he had not only to formulate and or- 
 ganize his courses of study, but he had to give sin- 
 gle handed all of the instruction given in architect- 
 ure the first half dozen years of his work, during 
 which time the enrollment was never less than 19 
 and one year reached 31 students. Imagine, if you 
 can, one man in a school of architecture of 30 stu- 
 dents, teaching history, drawing, design, decoration, 
 heating and ventilating, acoustics, etc., with no ma- 
 terial equipment other than a library, even though 
 that library was a good one. He was without models 
 of any kind to illustrate either the structural or the 
 esthetic side of his work; the stereopticon, for gen- 
 eral use at least, came many years later; and even 
 his library, superb as it was for its time, furnished 
 little material for direct use in the classroom when 
 compared with our present library of which that was 
 the nucleus. Perhaps no one of us knows, and few 
 of us appreciate, the vast amount of research, the 
 unremitting physical labor, involved in the making 
 of the large drawings and complicated models which 
 
he eventually accumulated for illustrating his work. 
 Nowadays when we want an illustration we can 
 almost surely find it somewhere in book, periodical, 
 or photograph; and, no matter how small the scale 
 or what the process of presentation, the photogra- 
 pher simply makes a lantern slide of it and we have 
 a perfect reproduction large enough to show with- 
 out difficulty to the largest classes. To accomplish 
 a comparable result even for small classes in those 
 days was either impossible or involved days, some- 
 times weeks of skilled labor. I, perhaps, better than 
 any other except Professor Babcock know some- 
 thing of the magnitude of his labors and it seems to 
 me like the building of the pyramids. I marvel that 
 one man could do it, but done it was and well done. 
 Many of the best of these models and drawings are 
 still in the rooms of the college and doing excellent 
 service, but the electric lantern with our collection 
 of ten thousand slides has crowded most of them 
 out of active service, though their value as instru- 
 ments of instruction has been incalculable to former 
 generations of our fellow students. 
 
 As a teacher Professor Babcock was always earn- 
 est, simple, direct, sound as any one well could be in 
 a field allowing so much latitude for differences of 
 opinion, and with a breadth of interest and a sense 
 of humor without which I doubt if he could have 
 survived and remained so young in spirit for these 
 eighty odd years. 
 
 I believe, however, that our first professor has 
 been to us something more than a man of culture, 
 an architect of high attainments and correct ideals, 
 a competent and sympathetic teacher. The one thing 
 that stands out preeminent, growing stronger in our 
 memories as the years pass and other memories 
 
grow dim, is the sturdy, unflinching goodness, the 
 loving, kindly spirit of the man under the cloak of 
 the teacher. Never moralizing, never criticizing, 
 never even seeming to notice the good or evil in the 
 rest of us, his quiet, sincere life and kindly spirit 
 have been and are still influences for good that no 
 man can measure; and to my way of thinking this 
 is the best, most lasting, and most fruitful of all his 
 works, though doubtless the things of which he him- 
 self has been the least conscious. 
 
 And, Mr. President, in appreciation of a great 
 service in education, a great service to our chosen 
 profession, and above all a great personal service in 
 the spirit of love and humanity, we, the alumni and 
 former students in architecture, tender to you as 
 President of the University, this portrait of our be- 
 loved first Professor and Dean, Charles Babcock. 
 
Jtt ffltmannm 
 
 ff± HE Rev - Charles Babcock, A. M., 
 ^■J Professor Emeritus of Architectures 
 died at his home on the Campus at Ithaca, 
 New York, on August 27, 1913, in his 
 eighty-fifth year. 
 
 Professor Babcock was born at Balls- 
 ton Springs, New York, on March 29, 
 1829; was called to Cornell University in 
 1871 as her first Professor of Architecture; 
 was advanced to the position of Dean 
 and Director with reorganization of the 
 department into a college, and in 1897 
 retired from active service as Professor ^ 
 Emeritus. 
 
 After retirement he continued to live 
 in his home on the campus, deeply inter- 
 ested in the life and affairs of the Univer- 
 sity, retaining up to the day of his death 
 all of his characteristic mental alertness 
 and enjoying to the last a fair measure 
 of physical health and vigor. His life 
 was like a beautiful discourse which has 
 uplifted the souls of men ; his death like 
 the quiet benediction at its close. 
 
Cornell University Library 
 NA 737.B115A37 
 
 An address given at Cornell University. 
 
 3 1924 015 686 698