 The Cavalcade of America, presented by Dupont. This evening's program tells the story of an American of many attainments. Oliver Wendell Holmes, poet, scientist, physician, and humorist. And it is fitting that this tribute to a resourceful mind and a great citizen should be dedicated to a large group of zealous and useful young Americans who are now serving their nation. The Boy Scouts of America. Because this is Boy Scout Week and the 28th anniversary of the founding of this great movement for boys is being observed throughout the country. Dupont extends congratulations and best wishes to the Boy Scouts. Confident that their training will add new stories of achievement to the Cavalcade of America. The Boy Scout ideal of a good turn daily finds a parallel in the Dupont Chemists Fledge. Better things for better living through chemistry. As an overture, Don Voorhees and the Dupont Cavalcade Orchestra play Arthur Schwartz's new hits from the musical comedy Between the Devil. I see your face before me. I find him chatting with two fellow students in the Knights of the Square Table Club. We've been talking about pleas and abatement. Action's in trover, as some sit and talk for the last hour or so. And I think it's high time we change the subject. What else is there for law students to discuss? Ten to one, I can name it, Holmes' favorite topic. Especially in view of the fact that you've written some excellent poetry for the Collegian. We thought all along that you were only going to be a poet, but a poet's position. Well, that sounds extremely remarkable. That would be a career. What would you have me do? Escort people to their graves to the ringing accompaniment of rhyming couplets? Well, if you'd become as good a physician as you are a poet... I'd hardly say those traveling verses in the Collegian justified you calling me a poet, Curtis. Poetry should light everybody's mind with fire. It's a sublime tradition. Does everybody, say a nation, believe in its traditions? Yes. Don't you think Americans do? No. Well, why do you say that, Brown? Did you see a copy of this morning's paper? The advertiser? No. No, not yet. Why? Well, it shows that Americans don't care up any word for tradition. Mr. Secretary Branch has ordered the frigate constitution destroyed. And Holmes, you know that chip's a tradition in American history. Destroy all the preposterous. I agree. Who doesn't remember how she defeated the guerrilla in the war of 1812? Why was she called Old Ironside? Well, it seems a sailor saw a cannonball bounce off her hull, and he shouted, she's made of iron, boys. Old Ironside. Well, I don't believe the Secretary knows what he's doing. That frigate is connected with too many stirring chapters in the history of our American Navy. Well, according to the article in the advertiser, Old Ironside is going to be destroyed. Listen, Brown, I'll take this question to the people in the best way I know. Now, if I can write a poem that will make Americans realize how much Old Ironside has done for our country, maybe they'll write to Secretary Branch. You mean the people will protest against his order to destroy Old Ironside's homes? Exactly. Well, aren't you overestimating the effect a poem can produce home? Well, we'll see about that. A poem of that kind wouldn't be easy to compose. Oh, nonsense. Versus spring like bubbles of fire to the lips. Give me that tablet, Brown. Destroy Old Ironside's stripper of her rigging. Die. Pull her tattered ensign down. The first line of his now-famous ode to read, I pull her tattered ensign down. But in revising it for book publication, he changed only one word. He'd tear her tattered ensign down. It is a stirring poem rising to an inspiring climax. Set every threadbare sail and give her to the God of storms, the lightning and the gale. An impetuous ode which many an American schoolboy has come to know by heart, a ringing fiery poem which circulated in the country's newspapers bringing national fame to Oliver Wendell Holmes at the age of 21. A few weeks later, we find an old man and a little boy rowing a small boat into the frigate constitution which is lying in the Boston harbor. I'm glad you rode me out to see Old Ironside for the last time, grandfather. I'm sorry it is the last. Well, we'll miss her. It's pity when you come to think of it, Jimmy, that all American boys and girls your age can't see her. Won't ever be able to see her. Just to look at her now is an inspiration. And it used to be, too, when you'd see her on a bright morning in May with her white sails in the sun and the girls flapping and crying about her mask in the white foam splashing against her bow. I wish we could stop Secretary Branch from destroying Old Ironside. I read a poem in the paper the other day that said it was a shame, Miss Sinker. You remember? I'll say I do. That was a great poem. And they say it was written by only boy that. I'd like to meet him, I would. I remember his name, Oliver Wendell Holmes. You know, Jimmy, there must have been thousands of people in our country who read Holmes' poem in the papers. Thousands who feel about Old Ironside as we do, as Holmes must have. I wrote a letter to Secretary Branch after I read that poem and asked him not to destroy Old Ironside. And, grandfather, maybe a hundred other people did, too. What do you think that'll do any good? Well, I hope so. Now they see which be quite a crowd on the dock today. Wonder what's up? Seems to be a lot of excitement. Looks like everybody in Boston's here. Maybe they've all come down to have a last look at Old Ironside. Well, watch out now as we hit the dock, Jimmy. Oh, yes. That's it. Now give me a hand, enough to come. All right. Now come on, we'll find out what's up. All right. Hello, sir. Say, sir, what's trouble? There's a big trouble of what? See those fellas over there? They're going to see Old Ironside down the bay and sink her. Somebody ought to put a stop to it. All right. They can't destroy Old Ironside as soon as they... Maybe you think not, Sonny. That's what they aim to do right now. Well, we'll see about that. Let's stand together, men. Are you with me? All right, then. Now, listen. We're not going to let anybody lay a finger on Old Ironside. No, sir. Who said that? The Ironside must be preserved. Give me the department to destroy the ship constitution, and nobody's going to stop it. We can't help it. The point is whether you like it or I don't. Listen, are we going to stand? Leave me the department. Secretary Branch has revoked his order. Old Ironside is going to be preserved. Oliver Wendell Holmes was instrumental in saving Old Ironside, which will always be associated so spiritedly with the history of our country. After studying medicine in Paris, he took his M.D. at Harvard, commenced practice, and soon became a professor at the university's medical school. One night, we find him talking with his wife Amelia in the parlor of their home in Boston. He's been working spitefully on these past few weeks here. Don't you think you'd better rest tonight? I must finish this essay on puerperal fever, Amelia. It's a tremendously important task. I am seeking to fool that puerperal fever is contagious. Oh, yes, that's what Susan's got. He wanted when her baby was born. Susan is very seriously ill. Nowadays, so many mothers die from contracting the fever through contagion. Oh, Oliver, I'm terribly frightened. Susan's my dearest friend. Yes? Is that you, Priscilla? Yes, ma'am. There's a Dr. Wilkins to see Dr. Holmes. You better not stay there. You'll probably get me into some argument. He's been trying to persuade me not to publish this essay for weeks. All right. Show him in here, Priscilla. Very well, ma'am. Oliver, would you mind if I went in the next room and played the melodian? None at all. Go right ahead, darling. You sure it won't disturb you. I'll play softly. Oh, that's quite all right, dear. We won't be long. In here, doctor. Thank you. Dr. Wilkins, sir. Good evening, Dr. Holmes. Good evening, doctor. That'll be all, Priscilla. You may go. Yes, sir. I'm very busy, Wilkins. Anything important? The medical profession thinks it's important. That's my wife. She practices in the evening. Will you sit down? Holmes, what I have to say won't take long. I represent the medical profession in these parts, and I've come to protest against your publishing that essay. I'm sorry, Wilkins. I'm going to publish it, nevertheless. You'll have the whole profession against you. You're putting your reputation at stake and your practice in jeopardy. Darklessly. But if in the end I can prove that purple fever is contagious and untold lives are saved in the future, then I'm taking a very small risk with my professional standing indeed. The fact that the medical profession is against you isn't that enough to dissuade you? No. I realize that I am exposing certain flaws in our medical treatment. But I have plenty of evidence to prove that this fever is contagious and that we can stop it from spreading infection. Oh, nonsense. Just foolish superstition, that's all. Listen. I know a woman. A friend of my wife, who's suffering from this fever now. I wouldn't say this to my wife. But her friend Susan undoubtedly contracted this infection at the hands of one of our careless physicians. I'm afraid she's going to die. Oh, that's ridiculous. The medical profession knows what it's talking about, Holmes. The trouble with you, scientist, says you like to be melodramatic too often. That woman won't die. What do I care what you think? I know the truth about this. If you publish that essay, you'll face the opposition of the entire medical profession. Oliver. Amelia, what is it, dear? Your pale is dead. Oh, Oliver. Priscilla just brought me a note from Susan's mother. You must publish your essay just as soon as you can. Susan is dead. The poor pro-fever was an original and greatly valuable contribution to medical science, made even before the early experiments of Louis Pasteur on the same subject. Before the day of Elizabeth Blackwell, America's first woman position, Holmes advocated the entrance of women into medicine. In his role as poet and humorist, he was one of the founders of the Saturday Club, which met at Parkers in Boston. A circle had included James Russell Lowell, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and John Greenleap Whittier. One night in 1857, Holmes is engaged in lively discussion of the Saturday Club. American literature did have an adequate and available organ of great authorship in the past. I might say the rapid past, since it existed only four years, from 1831 until 1835. I mean the New England magazine. Yes, I remember. Most of us used to contribute to it, I think. You did, Hawthorne. Yes, you know. Right, right. I recall your own contributions to the magazine with enormous pleasure, Dr. Holmes. Weren't you the autocrat of the breakfast table? I was, Mr. Emerson, or two numbers. But I haven't written anything under that name for over a quarter of a century. What a pity. America hasn't a magazine like that one today. We've seen the nation develop along various scientific lines. And we, as men of letters, should see that it progresses in the field of literature. We must establish this magazine, gentlemen. But we couldn't go into the publishing business and set up such a magazine. Most of us don't know two pins about business. Ah, but if someone else established the magazine, then all of us ought to become contributors to it. I like to think that we represent the best there is in contemporary American letters. That's what my wife said of this club. A mutual admiration society. Well, every one of us really should contribute to it. That is, if it's ever to exist. The publishing firm of Philip Sampson and Company have established such a magazine. And its editor is none other than our friend James Russell Lowell. Well, most gentlemen that I agreed to accept, only on condition that Dr. Holmes become the first contributor. And I am more than willing. Will you all help out? I agree, of course. I plan to write a series of essays under that old name of mine, about a grad of the breakfast table. Let me see. It's about a quarter of a century since I composed anything under that title. Now, perhaps I should begin like this. I was just going to say when I was interrupted 25 years ago. Well, what are you going to call the magazine, Holmes? A name that we hope will one day stand for much in the development of American literature, The Atlantic Monthly. The authors of Holmes and the talented Saturday Club was born the nation's first great magazine of literature, The Atlantic Monthly. As the autocrat, the poet, and the professor, his breakfast table essays endeared him in the hearts of Americans as a great humorous. Holmes, the poet who wrote Old Ironsides and The Last Leaf, which Abraham Lincoln knew by heart, was also the scientist who coined the medical term anesthesia and anesthetic, and the novelist whose healthy vendor was enthusiastically acclaimed. At the Hotel Brunswick in Boston, Holmes' 70th birthday was celebrated at a breakfast given in his honor. We find him talking with Ralph Waldo Emerson at its close. I haven't seen you since your son Wendell was appointed to the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts, Dr. Holmes. I imagine you must be well pleased with him. Yes, to think of it. My little boy, a judge, unable to send me to jail if I don't behave myself. Yes, I'm very happy today. I'd rather feel as if I were wearing a suit of sunshine. Everybody's been so good to me. This morning, I even received a letter of congratulation from President Hayes on my notorious birthday. I'd call that official approbation from America, Dr. Holmes. And now, ladies and gentlemen, we are privileged to hear a few words from our guest speaker, the American poet, Thomas Bailey Aldrich. Ladies and gentlemen, I am honored to speak as the representative of all the authors and poets in American literature. We all know how much Dr. Holmes has done to further the cause of literature in this country. But he has done more than that by his own encouragement to the younger writers in this nation. He has not only contributed, but has actually been an inspiration to the future of American literature. We who live in this age are fortunate in having known Dr. Holmes. He is a great scientist, and the fresh and subtle learning of his breakfast table essays, together with the humor and pathos of his poetry, will always be remembered as tributes to his extraordinary talent. He could not have perfected all these precious gifts if God had not given him the most sympathetic of human heart. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes. There is only one way I can reply to Mr. Aldrich's eulogy. You have all grown used to it. It's a typical way I have of speaking. And so, I am going to read you my last little poem. Youth longs and manhood strives. But age, remember, sits by the raked up ashes of the past, spreads its thin hands above the whitening embers that warm its creeping lifeblood till the last. So when the iron portal shuts behind us and life forgets us in its noise and whirls, visions that shun the glaring noonday find us, and glimmering starlight shows the gates of pearls, and now with grateful smiles and accents cheerful and warm our heart, then look or word can tell. In simplest phrase, these traitor's eyes are tearful. Thanks, brother. When you were 77 years old, Oliver Wendell Holmes took your second trip to Europe. He was acclaimed everywhere. Oxford and Edinburgh conferred honorary degrees on the American court position as at Cambridge, where the undergraduates burst into song at the ceremony, and the first person, Holmes, sweet Holmes. He was to live until the publication of his son's book, The Common Law, made the second Oliver Wendell Holmes recognized as one of the greatest legal thinkers in the history of jurisprudence. Death came to Dr. Holmes while he was sitting in his study on October 7th, 1894. He was 85 years old. An outstanding American physician, scientist, poet, and humorist, DuPont pays tribute to Oliver Wendell Holmes, an inspiring figure in the cavalcade of America. This week, the DuPont Company made its yearly report to the 73,000 people who share ownership in the DuPont business. These people, DuPont stockholders, live in every state of the Union. Men and women, young and old, they represent many occupations, farmers, housewives, clerks, doctors, mechanics, teachers, and so on. In a sense, the DuPont Company's report for 1937 is addressed to all the American people. Because DuPont's job of making chemical products contributes to the comfort, convenience, and well-being of nearly everybody. Raw materials purchased for these products come from farms, forests, and mines throughout the nation. The DuPont plants mean jobs and added income to 69 communities in 27 states. And DuPont products serve useful purposes in almost every home and every business. Research is the very heart of the chemical industry, and the annual report shows how important it is that this work be carried on through good times and bad. Often it takes five years, ten years, or even longer, and requires large sums of money to develop new and improved products for public use. During 1937, the DuPont Company was able to provide jobs for more workers than ever before in its history. This record was possible not because of that year's research, but because of money spent on research in 1932, 1930, and even earlier. The DuPont policy is constantly to improve quality and at the same time reduce cost, aiming at a low unit price on a large volume of sales. A review of 12 of DuPont's more important lines of products developed or improved during the past 10 years illustrates how this policy actually works in practice. These 12 groups of products alone now give employment to 7,300 more workers than were employed on the same groups in 1928. And the average selling price of these products has been reduced 40% during the past 10 years. The DuPont Company's report contains still other indications that progress was made during 1937. For example, the average total of DuPont employees last year, 57,800, represented an increase of about 13% over the 1936 average. And these employees were paid more than $107 million, an increase of about 26% over 1936. Thus, it can be seen that the long-range planning of a company like DuPont is part and parcel of the progress of the nation. Perhaps all of the facts and figures are best expressed in the pledge which guides the DuPont Company throughout every field of endeavor. Better things for better living through chemistry. The story of the Louisiana Purchase of how the American government obtained the vast stretches of the Great Northwest will be the subject of our broadcast when next week, at the same time, DuPont again presents The Cavalcade of America. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.