Greetings on the Occasion of
Princeton's 250th Birthday
Neil L. Rudenstine '56,
President, Harvard University

Princeton's 250th Anniversary Convocation
October 25, 1996

Mr. President, Trustees, and Distinguished Guests:

I have the honor, on behalf of Harvard University, to present warm greetings and congratulations to Princeton University, on the occasion of its 250th anniversary.

We salute you for your long, varied, and rich history; for your profound contributions to scholarship and the discovery of new ideas; for your constant commitment to excellence in teaching--inventing, as you have, your own forms and formats for all of us to emulate; for your dedication to ideals of public service, and indeed to the importance of effective action in all fields of human endeavor.

All of these (and other) accomplishments have been achieved, moreover, against nearly insuperable odds. You have had to overcome, for example, the fact that one of the small number of your original founders was a graduate of Harvard--an institution that, as early as the 1740s, was already regarded by strict Calvinists as godless and degenerate; that was seen to be drifting from puritan Congregationalism toward a dangerous Unitarianism--and wits even permitting its undergraduates to attend ruinously high Episcopalian services on Sundays, so long as they chose to do so voluntarily.

Yet more disastrous, however, was the fact that six of Princeton's other original founders had received their Bachelor of Arts degrees from Yale. At the time, Yale occupied the very heartland of Orthodox Calvinism: a dark everglade stirred by the lugubrious breezes of the religious movement called the Great Awakening. And so it happened that Yale, whether awake or profoundly asleep, gave to Princeton a cadre of Trustees, with enough Predestinarian preoccupations to keep the new-born college in a state of ecclesiastical distress throughout many of its most impressionable youthful years.

What other institution except Princeton could have possibly survived this star-crossed parentage--one part scarlet, and the other six parts unremittingly blue? Survival proved, in fact, to be far from certain. For instance, Jonathan Dickinson, Princeton's admirable first president, lodged nearly all the college's undergraduates in his own home, because there were no other buildings. He gave his students the free use of his own personal library, and conducted daily classes of instruction in his living room. Then, after a brief four and one-half months, President Dickinson passed quietly away from this earthly scene, leaving to others the tribulations of eighteenth century collegiate affairs.

Not very much later, the great theologian Jonathan Edwards accepted Princeton's presidency--although he did so with great reluctance, citing his poor health, his lack of familiarity with algebra and the higher mathematics, and his basic aversion to administration as well as to teaching.

None of these objections proved to be disqualifying. President Edwards arrived, but within six months he too had shuffled off this mortal coil--to be succeeded by Samuel Davies, who in turn lasted much longer: 21 months, to be exact.

If the average length of these three early presidential arrivals and rapid departures had become the norm, I estimate that Princeton would have had approximately 300 presidents by now.

But the pattern soon changed. Witherspoon set down strong roots. Maclean lent a steady and a sturdy hand. McCosh transformed a great college into a great university. And Woodrow Wilson created a new institutional tone with an infusion of his own brand of elan vital.

During the past four fortunate decades, Presidents Goheen, Bowen, and Shapiro have brought increased strength and clear direction at every turn in Princeton's unfolding odyssey now about to enter its second quarter-millenium.

So on this occasion, we celebrate you, Princeton, as the quintessence of institutions devoted to the liberal arts and sciences; as a place where undergraduate and graduate students are equally cherished; where an unwavering clarity of purpose and an unrivaled spirit of unity have inspired generation upon generation of students, colleagues, graduates, and friends; where those of us who are gathered here today may join in expressing our admiration for all that you have accomplished in the past two and one-half centuries, and our thanks for the strong leadership you are already providing as we look to the many centuries that still lie ahead.