THE SANCTUARY OF THE CHAPEL OF ST. JAMES
On the rear:
“He laboured that this Cathedral Church ‖ Should rise to the Glory of God and as ‖ A witness to the Life of our Lord and Master Jesus ‖ Christ that here the prayers of the children ‖ of many lands should rise to that ‖ Father in whom alone all men are brothers ‖ Whose service is perfect freedom.”
Around the edge of the top slab:
“I saw the Holy City coming down from God out of Heaven ‖ and I heard a great voice saying ‖ Behold the tabernacle of God is with men and he will dwell with them ‖ and they shall be his people.”
On the west wall is inscribed:
“The Chapel of St. James ‖ Consecrated ‖ May 2, 1916 ‖ To the Worship of ‖ Almighty God ‖ And in Loving Memory of ‖ Henry Codman Potter ‖ Bishop of New York ‖ Born May 25, 1834 ‖ Died July 21, 1908 ‖ The Gift of His Wife ‖ Elizabeth Scriven Potter ‖ Born September 30, 1848 ‖ Died March 4, 1909.”
Story of the Blind Woman. A beautiful and touching incident occurred in the Chapel of St. James a few years ago. One day, a woman who was blind, deaf, and could make only a few hardly articulate sounds, but who was cultured and could read by touch, visited the Cathedral with another woman. The Verger, the late Charles F. Barnard, first led her the full length of the Cathedral in order that she might comprehend its size. Then the general features of the edifice were communicated by her friend by the touch of their hands. The wood and stone carvings, however, she read with her own fingers. When she came to the Chapel of St. James, she wished to feel of Bishop Potter’s features as reproduced in the effigy on his tomb, but on account of the delicacy of the marble, visitors are not allowed to touch it. The blind woman, however, produced from her bag a pair of thin white gloves, and by signs asked if she might feel of the statue if she put them on. The Verger assenting, she ran her fingers deftly over the Bishop’s countenance, felt of the signet ring on his finger, etc., and then, satisfied, proceeded to the Altar. Here she knelt down and began to feel of the relief representing DaVinci’s Last Supper. As soon as she recognized the work, she threw up her hands in ecstasy and exclaimed in broken accents, the best she could utter, “Vinci! Vinci!” The venerable Verger, in relating this incident, said that he was moved to tears by the spectacle of the blind woman, kneeling before the Altar, with up-raised hands, “seeing” the Cathedral through the sense of touch. One may well ask, if this blind woman could see so much spiritual beauty in the Cathedral without eyes, how much more ought those to see who have the blessed gift of sight.