SPAN: May 1968

Fis~W'e dew

.r Frank

LI.W'd Wrichi's eoniro"ersial

GUlrcenheim Museunl

SPAN

May

Fun, Frolic and Fresh Ideas

2

by K.G. Gabrani

Pioneer of the Computer Age

10

by John Poppy

"They'll Still Try and Figure This One Out ... " 16

The Great M.eddler

27

by Gerald Carson

The Last Years of Oliver Wendell Holmes

33

by Catherine Drinker Bowen

Atlantic Gateway to America

44

by V.S. Nanda.

Front cover The Guggenheim Museum's manylevelled gallery is dramatized in this wide-angle lens photograph.

Since the Museum opened in 1959, it has been the centre of controversy. For story see pages 16-17.

W. D. Miller, Publisher;

Back cover A Punjabi farmer admires large, fulJ wheat shoots at Kisan Mela in Ludhiana. The fair, held to stimulate interest in modern farm practices, attracted some 10,000¡ farmers. See story on pages 2-7.

Dean Brown, Editor;

V. S. Nanda, Mg. Editor.

Editorial Staff: carmen Kagal, Avinash Pasricha, Nirmal K. Sharma, Krishan G. Gabrani, P.R. Gupta. Art Staff: B. Roy Choudhury, Nand K. Katyal, Kanti Roy, Kuldip Singh Jus, Gopi Gajwani. Production Staff: Awtar S. Marwaha, Mammen Philip. Photographic Services: USIS Photo Lab. Published by the United States Information Service, Bahawalpur House, Sikandra Road, New Delhi, on behalf of the American Embassy, New Delhi. Printed by Arun K. Mehta at Vakil & Sons Pvt. Ltd., Narandas Building, Sprott Road, 18 BalJard Estate, Bombay-], Manuscripts and photographs sent for publication must be accompanied by stamped, self-addressed envelope for return. SPAN is not responsible for any loss in transit. Use of SPAN articles in other publications is encouraged except when they are copyrighted. For details, write to the Editor, SPAN. Subscription: One year, rupees five; single copy, fifty paise. For change of address, send old address from a recent SPAN envelope along with new address to A.K. Mitra, Circulation Manager. AlJow six ~eeks for change of address to become effective.

Violence is impractical because the old eye-for-an-eye Philosophy ends up leaving everybody blind~ This method is wrong. This method is immoral. It is immoral because it is a descending spiral ending in destruction for everybody.

-Martin

Luther King

1929-1968

Fnn~frolic and fresh FOR TWO DAYS last spring, the scene at Punjab Agricultural University (PAU), Ludhiana, was more like a carnival than a temple of learning. The vast campus, normally serene, hummed with activity, enthusiasm and gaiety as some 10,000 farmers from Punjab State took part in a different kind of Kisan Mela (farmers' fair). Organized annually by PAU-one of seven Indian agricultural universities patterned after the Land Grant Colleges in the U.S.-the mela's primary aim was to introduce farmers to new developments in agriculture.

From dawn on the first day of the mela, when the air was still nippy, farmers came by bus, cart, tractor and on foot.

Some carried fresh produce from their

ideas

Ten thousand farmers attended Punjab Agricultural Unhrersity's recent Kisan Bela where demonstrations, competitions and entertainment combined to provide fun and nOewideas for far"-ers.

fields to enter in competItIOn; others brought blankets and lunch boxes.

Eager and enthusiastic, the farmers thronged round exhibits which included hybrid and quick-germinating seeds, fertilizers and insecticides, farm implements and books and magazines.

They also saw rich standing crops of new varieties of wheat at the PAU's demonstration fields-all grown with the same materials available to them-and many for the first time became aware of multiple cropping.

One example of the farmers' enthusiasm was provided at a question-and-answer session where many of their queries on farming were answered by members of the teaching faculty. When it was an-

nounced that a half-empty bus was leaving for Amritsar and anyone who wanted to go could do so, the farmers declined the offer of a free trip back home and instead preferred to stay on and learn. "This shows how receptive and awakened the farmer is today," said Dr. Kirpal Singh, director of the Department of Extension Education, and the moving spirit behind the mela.

"This mela has given me another opportunity to learn more of the advances made in agriculture," said Mahinder Singh of Patiala district. "I visited the mela last year and as a result I have more than doubled my wheat yield by using fertilizers and the improved Kalyan seed," he continued.

"I feel we can soon stop importing wheat from America and other countries," Mahinder Singh added, "only if we can get fertilizers and high-yielding seeds in the quantities we need. We also want to limit the size of our families. I wish we could have melas, like this one, on family planning. " "Many of the farmers are over-eager about fertilizers," said Prof. T.S. Sohal, "so, we advise them to get their soils tested and then suggest the right type and correct dosage of fertilizers for different crops."

In India's efforts to attain self-sufficiency in foodgrains, Mahinder Singh's spirit of self-confidence and awareness augurs well for the country.

~~ ..,.~'~c-

Ploughing competitions, with both tractors and bullocks, were judged on straightness of furrow, uniformity of depth, neatness and regularity at head land, Charkha spinning and ginning were among ten different contests organized for women. Others included pickle and jam making, sewing, embroidery, knitting.

of the mela were the competitions organized for the visiting farmers. There were handicraft and charkha spinning contests for women while the men demonstrated their skills in bullock and tractor ploughing.

Though all drew large crowds and cheers, it was the produce competition for which the greatest applause was reserved. The participants had brought fresh vegetables and fruits, sugar-cane and wheat stems from their far-off fields, many carrying them on shoulders, heads, AMONG THE HIGHLIGHTS

and arms for several miles.

Some of the potatoes exhibited weighed more than a kilogram each. There were twenty-inch carrots and stalks of sugarcane which measured fifteen feet.

"Oh, it's sweat and blood," said Nahar Singh of Sangrur district, winner of the sugar-cane competition, when asked about the secret of his bumper crop. But behind this "sweat and blood" lay another reason for his success: the new competitive spirit.

"Perhaps the real secret," he admits, "was a sort of competition with my neighbour." continued

Farmers brought fresh vegetables, fruits, sugarcane from their fields for produce competition.

IT WAS NOTall work at the mela.: As the first day's evening stretched out, the farmers filled the huge shamiana to listen to an entertainment programme which continued until the early hours of the morning.

Poets recited verses in praise of the farmers and radio artistes entertained them with skits and songs. The artistes, from the Jullundur Station of All India Radio, also appeared in a live broadcast from the shamiana. This gave the kisans an opportunity to meet the participants of their fa-

vourite dehati programme, and also to see how a radio programme is put together.

The kabbadi and tug-of-war matches aroused keen competition among the participants and great enthusiasm among the spectators. A holiday mood prevailed as thousands, crowding the arenas, cheered the players. Another enjoyable feature was the Bhangra, popular Punjabi folk dance, performed by young schoolboys and girls.

"It's been an exciting experience," said Dr. M.G. Smith, member of an Ohio

Entertainment programme organized for the visiting farmers offered" inside view" of a radio show which was broadcast "live" from the mela grounds. The programme also included popular and folk songs by artistes, above left, verse recitation by poets, above right, and a Bhangra dance by schoolgiils, below.

State University team working with PAU. The team, operating through a contract with U.S.A.I.D., assists the university in its many-faceted research activity. Ohio University also extends to PAU teachers facilities for higher education at its campus in the U.S. "After seeing the farmers' enthusiasm," Dr. Smith added, "I am further convinced that India's march towards self-sufficiency in foodgrains is within the realm of achievement."

END

Tug-of-war. ahove, and kabbadi matches, below, were among the sports events that drew thousands of enthusiastic spectators to cheer and applaud favourite contestants. Villal!e "champions" from many of the Punjab villages participated in the games held during the university's two-day Kisan Mela.

TEACHING SCIENCE ON A SHOESTRING BUDGET

EARLYTHIS YEARDr. Hubert N. Alyea of Princeton University demonstrated to Indian teachers how they can make classroom science more stimulating to students, easier to understand-and at an astonishing low cost.

Prof. Alyea, director of Princeton's Frick Chemical Laboratory, showed how four complete science courses with 800 experiments can be conducted with materials costing only thirty-five rupees.

"Science must be taught from beakers," Prof. Alyea told Indian science teachers, "not from books alone. But at present, few schools in India can afford to carryon enough scientific experiments to demonstrate basic principles, not to mention new developments."

From the need to red uce the cost of science teaching, Dr. Alyea developed his special techniques. Basic to his approach is a simple projector. All experiments are conducted "in miniature" on the stage of the projector which, by casting a magnified image on the wall, makes the demonstration visible to a large class of students.

"By using minute quantities of chemicals," he explains, "we reduce the cost of the average experiment from several rupees to a few paise. Costs for materials that normally amount to 4,000 rupees for a school term now total only thirty-five."

The projector, key to Professor Alyea's low-cost demonstration method, can be easily constructed by teachers or students for approximately 120 rupees. For a school that cannot afford even this investment in teaching aids, or that has no electricity, a simplified projector powered by a car battery has been designed. Built with a bulb and a board, it costs only two rupees.

During his visit to India, Dr. Alyea attended the All-India Science Teachers' Association meeting at Gauhati, conducted two special workshops for teachers in New Delhi, and held a number of lecture demonstrations at universities in Chandigarh, Hyderabad, Madras and Mysore. His successful Indian programme was jointly sponsored by the Government of India's National Council for Science Education and the U.S. National Science Foundation.

At workshop in Delhi, teachers question Dr. Hubert Alyea on low-cost projector, the key to his technique for conducting 800 experiments in a year for Rs. 35 only.

The projector beams three different chemical reactions on the wall. By using m'inute quantities of chemicals, the cost of average experiment is reduced to a few paise.

Far left, with a dramatic flash, Dr. Alyea demonstrates how explosions are caused in flour mills. In the experiment, ordinary flour blown past an open flame explodes.

"To start a company you put effort where there is need," says Max Palevsky, left, founder and dynamic president of a young computer firm that today employs 3,000 people.

FROM THE FIRST GLANCE, Max Palevsky appears to be no ordinary American. He is only forty-four and owns two large houses in southern California; he drives to work in an imported Jaguar automobile; he has been a university philosophy teacher and is now president of a company that employs 3,000 persons to make and sell computers, the complex machines that are forging a technological revolution in the United States. He started the company, Scientific Data Systems, himself and his stock in it is worth about $30 million.

Palevsky chuckles when he mentions his wealth; like many who were once poor, he frankly enjoys it. But even more, he enjoys the sense of power that comes from knowing that he can translate his ideas, technical or commercial, into action. Seven years ago, he had an idea about how to make and sell a new type of electronic computer. With this idea and the machine that evolved from it, he built Scientific Data Systems. Tomorrow, he might get an idea about new ways to process information. With it, he could change the lives of thousands of persons.

You might say this is a rare man whose position sets him apart from most Americans.

But is he really rare? What put Max Palevsky into such a position? He certainly was not born to it.

His father was a house painter in the midwestern city of Chicago when Max was born in 1924.The older Palevsky had immigrated

from Russia, near Minsk, some twenty years before, and after working at various jobs, he ended up running a small painting business"Very small," says Max now. "My father was the only employee." A university education seemed unlikely for Max. The house contained few books ("My parents were not literate, really, and my mother did not learn to read English until I was grown up," he recalls), and the great expansion of higher education in the United States was still in the future. Today, nearly fifty-five per cent of American high school graduates go to college-full-time or part-time-but in 1940, only thirty per cent did. Besides, his father's wages brought barely enough money to live on.

Max went to a free public high school in Chicago, and tried to make some extra money for the family by looking for work in his spare time; but he was growing up during the Great Depression of the 1930's, when even trained adults had terrible difficulty finding jobs. "Living through a depression like that one instills a certain sense of doom in you," he says now. "You never lose the feeling that you must work constantly to avoid sinking into helplessness." The boy finished high school just before the United States entered World War II, and managed to enrol for one semester at Illinois Technical College.

What had moved him towards an interest in technology? Perhaps his older brother, who is today a respected physicist; perhaps the books and laboratories in his high school. In any case, he soon enlisted in the Army Air Corps, scored high on a technical-aptitude test, and was sent to the University of Chicago for training in military electronics. By the end of the war, he was a maintenance officer at an air depot in New Guinea.

A grateful American Government thanked its returning servicemen with benefits like the

"G. I. Bill" that provided funds for education.

Palevsky seized the opportunity and returned to the University of Chicago in 1946 to take a degree in mathematics. As he dug deeper into the foundations of mathematics, he found that the fundamental concept of manipulating abstract quantities came under the heading of philosophy. After graduate work at Chicago and Berkeley, he became a teacher of classical logic at the University of California at Los Angeles.

"From there, it was a short step to computers," he says. As he speaks reflectively of his past academic life, the fast-moving businessman today props his feet on his desk to recall the broad range of his education: "At UCLA, I read the classic John von Neumann papers on computer theory. But you have to go back much farther than that to see what happened in the computer field.

Since people first started to think about logical structures, in the times of Plato and Aristotle, academicians had never been sure of how to classify logic. Was it mathematics?

Was it philosophy? Some mathematicians worked on formal logic, but until the 1940's it was assigned rather arbitrarily to the phil. osophy departments of our universities. Then, towards the end of the 1940's, people began to see the possibilities in computers. Men like von Neumann (of the Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton University) saw that the techniques to be used in designing computers were the logical techniques. Most of us logicians were really philosophers, so it turned out that for the first time since Socrates, a philosopher could earn an honest living- by designing computers."

Palevsky laughs as he describes his departure from the scholarly world to make his way in the world of commerce. "When I left UCLA in 1951 to work on the logic design of the Bendix Corporation's first computer, the continued

PIONEER OFTHE COMPUTER AGE

whole field was filled with misfits- people like me who didn't quite fit into any particular niche. Now, there are computer sciences groups in many universities, turning out academically-trained professionals, but when computers came into general use in the United States in the mid-1950's, there were no such training centres. We improvised."

As an employee of Bendix, Palevsky designed electronic circuitry for machines including several digital differential analysers.

Still, he had what he calls -"mixed feelings about what I should do for the next ten or twenty years." He was not sure where his career lay. He and his wife Joan-a California girl whom he had married while they were both teaching at UCLA-made an audacious decision: they would save their money until they had enough to stop work and live for a year in Europe. In 1954, they did it.

Palevsky took a year's leave of absence from Bendix. He and Joan spent a month travelling in Italy and southern France before moving to Paris, where for eleven months they lived on $3 a day. Recalling that period, Palevsky says, "My wife worked on her doctoral dissertation in Romance languages and I did nothing. I just soaked up the culture. I read a great deal, mostly French history and philosophy, took French language lessons at the Alliance Francaise, and got to know the city quite well.

"That quiet time in Paris was .when I decided to stay with computers, though I had no idea then of being an entrepreneur. That year showed me two things: First, the glitter and magic associated by romantic people with living in Paris is mostly nonsense. I tend to be very impatient with the sort of person who thinks that going off to some pretty place will solvehis problems. I put a high value on work.

Second, it made clear that I have the kind of personality that needs action. Having spent most of my working life-around universities, I'd been kidding myself into thinking I was more contemplative than I am."

Action and energy characterize Palevsky's style. Returning from Paris, he eventually quit Bendix and then another company, PackardBell Electronics Corporation, when they refused to follow his advice on design and marketing (both lost great amounts of money in the computer business and are now out of it).

He persuaded eleven associates to help him form Scientific Data Systems in 1961; he has been the driving, pushing force behind the company ever since.

Palevsky bounces into his office at 7 :45 a.m. His employees know him as a boss who pays well but who expects them to earn their

money by trying to match his pace. "I don't have a paternalistic bone in my body," he grins, proving it by personally checking the parking lot each morning at eight o'clock for late arrivals and assigning work on the premise that "if a job requires ten people, putting five on it will get it done faster."

"Come on, come on," is a phrase he injects almost unconsciously into every business conversation. In the course of one typical morning, Palevsky began by sitting down to talk with Robert Chambolle, director of engineering and manufacturing for Compagnie Internationale pour l'Informatique (INFI), the French combine formed to produce computers under General de Gaulle's "plan calcule." Some of the equipment and engineering experience will come from Scientific Data Systems. As Palevsky and Chambolle traded offers on the cost of an item, the telephone on Palevsky's desk rang. He excused himself to pick it up and argue passionately with a subordinate about a contract with another customer: "Come on, Arnold, we certainly can not charge them extra for drafting on that machine. V:!e're charging a lot for that job; at those rates, drafting has to be included. Come on!"

Arnold must have agreed, for Palevsky soon stopped saying "come on" and returned to Chambolle.

"I don't have a paternalistic If a job bone in my body .... requires ten people, putting five on it will get it done faster."

They reached one agreement, decided to meet again. the next Il).orning, and as Chambolleleft, Palevskyturned to look at blueprints for new factory and headquarters buildings that will replace the rented ones Scientific Data Systems has occupied since 1961. He was told that his vice president for manufacturing wanted 13,950 square metres of factory floor space. "It can't be more than 7,440 square metres. Come on!" snorted Palevsky waving the plans away.

Back at the telephone, Palevsky talked with the president of another firm, a potential customer. "Are you people angry with us?

I got the idea from Peter that you think we're not treating you fairly. If you feel we have done something wrong, we want to know it, so I wish you would be open with me. We certainly don't want to take advantage of

you." There had been a misunderstanding, but thanks to his plea for candour it was cleared away, and both sides were happy.

After a business lunch, Palevsky's afternoon went like his morning. Between quick decisions, he pondered longer-range problems. His future computers will need a new type of circuitry; should he order integrated circuits now, thus assuring himself of ontime delivery, or wait a while for more advanced design which would improve performance-but which might mean later delivery and thus less profit for his company?

"Sure, it's a juggling act," he says, "but after a while you get to know the context; you know the companies, their past performance, their people, their presidents, so you operate instinctively in the manner of balancing one thing against another. Like a sailor who rolls with the pitch of his ship, you operate easily in this atmosphere."

He must fight the temptation to go too far in refining his new computers, to keep making the machines more elegant technically at the risk of delivering them late. "If you pursue that process too far, you risk ruin," he says.

"Before starting Scientific Data Systems, I once persuaded another company to build a design I fancied; it worked, but it lost a lot of money because almost nobody needed that type of computer. Thinking that over, I decided that it is doing things backward to start a company, or a factory, just to make some product. You should start a company because you have a business idea, not because you have a technical idea. It sounds crass to say that you start a company to make money, but what that really means is that you put effort where there is a need, not where there is no need."

He left his office at 7 p.m., had dinner with his wife and two children, and worked another two hours before going to sleep. Does such a schedule exhaust him? Quite the contrary. He seems happiest, his eyes sparkle brightest, when he wrestles with problems his subordinates cannot solve, seeking the balance between too much safety and too much danger for his company. "It is sport," Palevsky says of his feeling towards his business. "Persuading people to see things your way, solving problems, that's where the action is. The complexity of the game-that's where all the fun is."

Seven years ago; Scientific Data Systems existed only as an idea-no factory, no workers, no product, not even a name. In 1966, the company sold $60 million worth of computers, making a profit of about $4.5 million.

By now, more than 600 SDS computers are

in use in more than twenty countries-around the world.

The company is a success, but it might also have been a failure. SDS was one of 431,000new businesses-ranging in size from one-man shops to large manufacturing com~ panies-started in the United States in 1961.

Of these, a number have disappeared, along with their founders' dreams. The scramble for survival is especially tough in the young computer industry; competition from established giants like International Business Machines (which takes an estimated seventy per cent of the annual market) and the swift pace of technology have forced several hopeful computer manufacturers to give up, with great loss of money and effort.

Knowing this, why would an individual businessman risk his own savings and his family's future on an attempt to build and sell a complex, specialized product? Why not wait for some huge corporation-or the government-to do it? And how does a capitalist start his company?

Max Palevsky knew not only the risks of the computer business, but the opportunities as well. He knew that in 1950 there had been just fifteen computers at work in the United States. By 1960, there were still not quite 5,OOQ-butPalevsky sensed that an explosion of growth was gathering force. He fully expected the U.S. computer industry to make sales of $7 billion a year by 1970. (Now, he sees no reason to change his mind; 12,000 computers were installed in the United States in 1966 alone, bringing the total to 40,000 by the end of the year.) As he thought about it, he saw that the big manufacturers of computers costing a million dollars or more were neglecting an important potential customer: the engineer or researcher who needed a fast, reliable electronic brain to solve scientific problems, but who could not afford a big, multi-million-dollar machine.

Palevsky decided that he could build smallto-medium size scientific¡ computers to fill that need. He also decided that he could sell many of them by giving potential customers a service that no other manufacturer then offered. He would show them how to build their experimental machinery around the computer so that instead of simply doing arithmetic for the scientist, the computer would interact with the experimental machinery (a space rocket at launch time, a nuclear accelerator, a human brain, whatever was being studied). The computer would monitor and control the process as it happened, not just report on it afterwards. This Palevsky called "integrating a system around

a computer." The gain in efficiency, accuracy and range of most scientific operations would be tremendous, he felt.

To start making such machines would take amounts of money that stagger the imagination. Palevsky persuaded eleven friends, all computer experts, to join in his Vision. The eleven put up a total of $40,000. Palevsky put up all the money he had saved during his working life, and managed to get a personal loan from a bank to bring his own contribution to $80,000, so that altogether he and his friends pooled$120,000.It meant almost nothing. They would need a million dollars, at least, just to begin. Their personal resources were exhausted; where could they turn?

Palevsky went to investors in New York.

A businessman with an idea can choose from a variety of sources of money: Private investment banks deal in stocks and bonds and may help a new business start; then there are groups of people who are willing to risk their capital and speculate on science companies like the one Palevsky proposed.

"Persuading people to see things your way, solving problems -that's where the action is."

He talked with dozens of these scienceinvestment specialists, presenting his idea, asking for their help, explaining their chances to make a profit. He showed them a prospectus-a list of computations supporting his hope that the company could not only survive, but in time would make money. Finally, he collected enough investors to raise the million dollars he needed. In return, they would get a share of his company's profits.

One group called Davis and Rock, with offices in San Francisco, decided to invest $350,000. Davis and Rock's investment experts were impressed more by the calibre of the engineers and salesmen Palevsky had gathered than by the figures on his prospectus.

Palevsky's team knew how to design computers and sell them. "The bright investor risks his money on a group of people," said one. "After all, that's what a company is-a group of people who know what they are doing."

The twelve partners registered the name of their company-Scientific Data Systemslisting Max Palevsky as president. They put their million borrowed dollars in a bank and rented an empty shell of a building, 8,370

square metres of factory space, in Santa Monica, California. They hired a secretary, put up partitions to divide the work space, bought some test equipment and started the development process that would, they hoped, produce a working computer within a year.

Nowadays, gestation time for a new computer is considered to be three to five years, but Scientific Data Systems did not have that much time; their money would be spent in twelve months.

One by one, they tested their technical ideas, laying out in detail how the new computer would work, designing the "programme" that would be its language, writing the literature that described it. This devel¡ opment used up the lion's share of the million dollars.

Palevsky's men had to make some compromises in their quest for perfection. "We had to build a machine that involved no serious basic technical problems," Palevsky explains.

"We didn't have enough money to undertake a development programme with large unknown areas. For instance, the memory we built worked in eight microseconds-eight millionths of a second. We knew that with a little more effort we could build a memory that would work twice as fast, but we just couldn't take the chance. If the development process took an extra three months, we would be out of business."

Within a year, the first SDS computer, the Model 910, stood full-grown on the factory floor: It worked. It sold for less than $100,000, which was an incredible bargain to buyers used to paying between $500,000 and $1 million for computers. By the time that first machine was delivered, SDS had orders for many more. Most important, Palevsky knew that his organization could design and produce computers-and make a profit.

Most companies lose money their first year, and SDS was no exception. The following year, 1962, it sold slightly more than $1 million worth of computers, but still lost $511,411. The next year, however, turned the tide. In 1963 revenues were $7,721,537, of which $1,310,564 was profit after taxes"and the figures have continued to rise. SOS engineers now have time and money to develop ever more sophisticated machines.

What were the major factors in the little company's survival and startling success?

"We successfully filled a hole in the market," says Palevsky, "which you might say is a demonstration of the flexibility of our economic system. The price we pay for that flexibility is that some companies do not succeed. But a lot of needs are filled that way." (continued)

And a lot of pockets. Palevsky had-assured Davis and Rock, back in 1961, that if they helped him, within five years SDS would gross $5 million with earnings of eight per cent.

Actually, the end of the fifth year saw earnings of eight per cent on total revenues of $55 million. "Davis and Rock put up $350,000, and I would guess that by the time they sell their stock it will be worth over $35 million," Palevsky says. Investors do not expect each of their gambles to work out that way, of course; they understand that the odds are great. The return, however, can be very great.

This enables companies to take risks-risks that are necessary to fast, steady technological progress.

"We were a new company and had to show people something different to make them remember us."

Technical innovations helped. As the result of a decision by Palevsky and three of his partners early in the company's history, SDS introduced in 1962 the first computer made entirely with silicon semi-conductors; soon, other companies began making their machines that way. In 1965,.SDS pioneered the use of monolithic integrated circuits in commercial computers. Both of these steps increased the speed and reliability of the machines. "Of course, we felt the new circuits .would work better," Palevsky says, "but we based a large part of our decision on the fact that we were a new company and had to show people something different to make them remember us."

Yet, Palevsky does not regard new inventions as the main reason for his success. "We are a business, not a bunch of boy scientists," he once snapped at an acquaintance who questioned the wisdom of entering the competitive computer field. Management of the 3,000 individuals in the company, and of their projects, is Palevsky's most interesting problem. The all-important managerial skill, to Palevsky, is not in making dramatic technical decisions but in co-ordinating everyone's activities so that one technical area does not get out of phase with any of the others.

"That really is the management problem of modern technological industry," Palevsky declares. "Whether you keep track by counting profit, or by some other means, the problem is the same. It doesn't matter what your economic system is, or what country you

work in; anybody who wants to build something has to go through the same process."

He describes the process in his own company: "The principles of designing computers are well known. The problem is one of optimizing, of picking the right combination from among 100,000 choices. The decision-maker has to be sure that the actual hardware works the way it should-that the computer computes. He also has to insure that it programmes correctly-that it answers the kind of question the customer wants it to. He also has to make sure that the whole system can be built efficiently, and that once it is in the field it can be used and maintained efficiently.

At each point during the process of making a new machine, hundreds of people are making decisions. At each point someone has to make a choice so that the total output, for the effort and money put into it, will be the optimum solution. Since this is a profitoriented business, he has to make sure that all this can be done for a reasonable price.

"This involves an immense range of technologies and skills. How do you manage that incredibly complex decision-making process?

How do you make sure that all the decisions are aimed at the same goal, and that all the interlocking decisions are made with full knowledge of the other decisions being made simultaneously?

Generating evaluation procedures and controls is very complex. In a technological society, it is one of the processes that is least understood."

A manager like Palevsky must be a man who instinctively understands the technical side of computers, but who goes beyond that to understand people. A manager with nothing but technical experience may expect his company to run the way a machine runs. It won't. Palevsky realizes that "my background -the broad experience of teaching philosophy, goofing off in Paris-helps me cope with the ambiguities in human nature." One result is that the decision-making process at SDS involves some formal procedures and some intuitive ones. Every month, for instance, Palevsky and his executive vice presidents receive a thick volume of written reports from lower-level managers. "But," says Palevsky, "there are lots of things you can't write down; there are all those daily readjustments in the optimizing process. If one supplier slips delivery of a vital piece, somebody has to decide immediately what alternatives we have, to keep production moving. It would be i!l!possible for two or three of us to make all the decisions in this company; we make some, and do our b~st to stay aware of the others."

SDS may be unique in the United States computer business in that all planning of new products is done in Palevsky's office. A planning staff helps him, but Palevsky alone makes the final decision on the company's future directions. "I can't reach that sort of decision by arithmetic alone," he says. "I bring to bear all my judgment, all my experience, all that I know." He does not believe in committees executing his decisions, either.

The entire final design of a computer is placed in the hands of one man. This responsible man draws on the services of others, but the project is his to command. Palevsky thinks this saves time and produces superior design.

It has produced SDS computers that process data from every U.S. space probe beyond the moon; that control the beam of a 3.2 kilometre-Iong linear accelerator at Stanford University; that monitor and analyse brain waves in research projects exploring the learning process; that can be used in manufacturing as well as in research.

"The all-important managerial skill is not in making dramatic technical decisions, but in coordinating everyone's activities."

The newest "family" of SDS computers, trade-named Sigma, was born in 1966. Bigger and more expensive than the company's previous machines, Sigma computers can be combined in different ways to permit up to 100 users simultaneously to process data, get answers to scientific questions and handle immediate "real-time" problems such as reo gulating temperature controls in an oil refinery. A Sigma 7 computer can work several times faster than other machines in its price class. Max Palevsky expects to sell several hundred million dollars worth of Sigmas, because he believes his management techniques have made possible a computer that will be more useful to its buyers than any previous machine. The thought makes him happy.

"The emphasis in this company," he says, "is to try to solve the customer's problem.

Our job is not to tell the customer how stupid he is if he doesn't buy our product, but to find out what he needs and then sell it to

h¡1m. " Hands locked behind his head, Palevsky pauses in course of the day's work, right. He alone makes final decision on the company's future directions.

Monotony of Fifth Avenue architecture is broken by Guggenheim's cylindrical outline.

Museum's visitors don't seem to mind the queue-mere

proximity to it generates excitement.

"They'll still try and figure this one 00t ... " SHORTLY BEFORE his

death in 1959, Frank Lloyd Wright predicted that "one hundred years from now they'll still try and figure this one out."

He was referring to the building he designed for the Guggenheim Museum on New York's Fifth Avenue, a typically unique Wright structure that has been the centre of controversy for nearly a decade.

One imagines that Wright would have enjoyed the explosive reactions it has generated, for the great American architect had lived with controversy all his life.

Today, almost a decade after its opening, no visitor to the Guggenheim remains neutral. And the comments it provokes are all violently partisan: "It is a battle between architecture and painting in which both are badly maimed."

"The museum is a piece of sculpture in itself." "An obstacle race with endless hurdles."

Wright's design, as is well known today, is a radical departure from the traditional concept of a museum.

Inside the cylindrical cement structure, a vast interior space rises to a glass dome ninety-two feet above the main floor. The paintings are displayed along a circular ramp which spirals upward around the walls in a continuous flow. It was Wright's idea that visitors should take the elevator to the top of the ramp, then leisurely view the paintings on the walk down.

But it doesn't always work this way. One recent visitor, for instance, started from the bottom. When he had finIshed, he was "tired of walking uphill, tired of looking at paintings, tired of looking at people, tired of being tired."

Visitors study Brancusi wood sculpture, above. On the wall, painting by Pierre Soulages.

Reaction of viewer at left is difficult to judge, but she is certainly not neutral.

Woman below seems bothered by projecting rods that support pictures on upper half of ramp.

That the eop e may I P ed d eel.. e

Forty-five times since the founding of the Republic, citizens of the United States have elected a Chief Exe~utive. Sin~e the first PresIdent, candIdates aspiring to the office have traditionally "gone to ~he country" seekin.g votes. As the natIon expanded, PresIdential candidates have travelled ever-increasing distances, shaking thousands of hands, delivering countless speeches-to milling crowds in a city square or to an intent few at a village crossroads-all with the purpose of persuading their peers.

Party workers in hundreds of committees devote innumerable hours planning the all-important campaign itinerary for a Presidential candidate. Personal appearances are scheduled at times and places for greatest impact, and the nominee addresses himself to specific issues believed most vital to the particular audience.

And standing beside the "Head of the Ticket" are local office-seekers, hOf)ing to benefit by association.

The coach has been supplanted now by jet aircraft, and television has brought candidates into living rooms everywhere in the United States. Most present day issues are as dissimilar to those of the past as are the changes in dress. But today's politicians, even as yesteryear's, realize there is no substitute for face-to-face contact with the voters. The personal approach was liberally employed in 1964 by both Lyndon B. Johnson, warmly communicating with voters in Chicago, and Barry Goldwater, leaning from a speaker's platform during a trip to Florida. These and other vote-seekers know that TV sets cannot shake hands-or lend the magic touch provided by a personal appearance.

The following four pages illustrate the styles and techniques of Presidential candidates since Andrew Jackson's 1828 campaign.

Andrew Jackson, 1828 election winner, used stagecoach as a convenient rostrum in his campaign for reforms to benefit working man and farmer.

Abraham Lincoln's

famous debates with S. A. Douglas in 1858 campaign for Senate prepared him for successful Presidential bid two years later.

William H. Taft, 27th President,

Franklin D. Roosevelt greets two

offers thanks to train crew in 1908 campaign. Most campaigning was from rear of train until advent of air travel in early '50s.

Georgia farmers in 1932 during his first Presidential campaign.

Using auto caravan to reach people, he sought votes of Hcommon man."

Richard Nixon's 1960 campaign was arduous and nearly successful against J. F. Kennedy. The former Vice President is a leading contender again this year.

Harry S. Truman in 1948 defied all gloomy forecasts and won with his 31,000mile ÂŤwhistle stop" trip, so called because of brief stops at small towns.

Dwight D. Eisenhower's famous grin was major asset in two successful campaigns. And like all candidates, he greeted thousands of young children.

Lyndon B. Johnson won record popular victory in 1964 with a campaign that gave him maximum exposure to voters. He often stopped car to greet crowds.

I CO ULD stay here forever," John F. Kennedy once said of this favoured spot at Arlington. Here now stands a simple memorial to President Kennedy whose fifty-first birth anniversary is being observed this month.

A continual stream of visitors comes to his grave site on a grassy hill in Arlington National Cemetery, overlooking the Potomac River and the city of Washington, D.C. The imposing vista, left, sweeps across the bridge to the Lincoln Memorial.

Visitors to the recently completed Kennedy Memorial follow a circular walkway near the Arlington Cemetery's entrance to an elliptical granite overlook. More than 45,000 people a week pause here to read the quotations from President Kennedy's inaugural address inscribed on a low sloping wall, bottom.

Marble steps rise five feet above the overlook to the grave terrace.

H

continued

The marble terrace, above, ringed by evergreen shrubs and blossoming magnolias, sets off a plot of rough jieldstones from Cape Cod in Massachusetts, location of the summer home which Kennedy loved. Three simple grey tablets in the tradition of early New Englanders mark the graves of the late President and his two infant children who lie beside him. At the head of the plot, emerging from a low, round stone, the eternal flame, lit by Mrs. Kennedy, continues to burn.

Since 1864, Arlington has been the final resting place of more than 100,000 American servicemen, civilians and many distinguished Americans. It is also the site of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers. Now with the Kennedy Memorial there, this hallowed ground has a new significancefor all who cherishfreedom.

warm evening in April 1866, a well-tailored gentleman with a drooping mustache and a long, thin face, obviously a member of the "upper ten," stood at the intersection of Fifth Avenue and Twenty-third Street in New York City, watching the tangle of traffic where Broadway slants across Fifth Avenue. A wilder individualism than we know today prevailed among the horsecars and omnibuses, the struggling carriages, drays, vans, and butchers' carts of New York. Every wheel was turned, of course, by horsepower. Suddenly the observer stepped off the curb and threaded his way towards a teamster who was giving his weary workhorse an unmerciful beating.

"My friend," he said, "you can't do that any more."

"Can't beat my own horse," the teamster shot back. "-the devil I can't," as he fell to again.

"Y ou are not aware, probably, that you are breaking the law," said the interloper, "but you are. I have the new statute in my pocket; and the horse is yours only to treat kindly. I could have you arrested. I only want to inform you what a risk you run."

"Go to hell," snapped the teamster, amazed. "You're mad!"

Thus Henry Bergh began, quietly and politely, but firmly, a twenty-two-year effort to arouse the American conscience to the plight of fellow creatures who could not defend themselves or explain their predicament. Earlier that day, the nineteenth of April; the New York State Legislature had passed a bill punishing an act, or omission of an act, that caused pain to animals "unjustifiably." It was a historic step forward in the nineteenth-century movement towards animal protection.

It became one of Bergh's most effective arguments to stress the cost of cruelty to the more than eighty-five million animals "contributing in one way or another to the daily support and enrichment of the people of this country."

Cruelty to animals was not an offence under common law unless it carried with it a public nuisance factor, i.e., was observable and offensive to humans or violated a property right. There were animal-protection statutes in certain States, including New York, but they were narrowly drawn, usually for the purpose of protecting some property interest. Machinery for enforcement was lackmg; the laws were largely ineffective.

ON AN UNSEASONABLY

Reprinted with permission from AmericanHeritage. @1967 by American Heritage Publishing Co., Inc.

THE GREAT MEDDLER

Founder, president and architect of the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, Henry Bergh saw the world through the eyes of a wounded bird or a cat stuck in a drain pipe. Tirelessly patrolling the city streets, appearing in courtrooms, writing, lecturing, and raising money, he became known, to his antagonists at least, as "the Great Meddler."

Just a few days before the New York legislature passed the animal-welfare act of 1866, it had chartered an animal-protection society. The new organization, the first of its kind in the Western Hemisphere, was called the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. The ASPCA's sponsors were prominent New Yorkers, leaders in the city, State, and nation in finance, commerce, the law, and politics. But the driving force behind the anti-cruelty idea was Henry Bergh.

He was the founder, president, inspirer, advocate, diplomatist, lecturer, writer, administrator, fund raiser, and tireless protestant against the abuse of animals and against indifference to man's effect upon their condition and environment.

"To plant, or revive, the principle of mercy in the human heart," Bergh said, would be ¡'a triumph ... greater than the building of the Great Pacific Railroad."

The cause became known as "Bergh's War." The ASPCA was the "Bergh Society," its agents were "Bergh's men." Henry Bergh's tall, muscular figure and long, sadeyed face-as he patrolled the streets, appeared in courtrooms, or stopped in at the American Museum to see how the famous circus owner P.T. Barnum was treating his menagerie-became a familiar sight to New Yorkers.

There was little in Henry Bergh's heritage or earlier life to suggest his remarkable ability to see the human world through the eyes of a wounded bird, a cat stuck in a drain pipe, or the animals pacing their cages in New York's Central Park Zoo. The descendant of a notable family that had emigrated in the eighteenth century from the Rhenish Palatinate to the mid-Hudson Valley, Henry Bergh was the youngest of three children of Christian Bergh, a stern Jacksonian Democrat and prosperous shipbuilder in New York City during the first forty years of the century. Henry was born on August 29, probably in the year 1813.

Bergh entered Columbia College in 1830 with some thought of a career in law. As a collegian he was a young man of fashion, enjoying the balls and the company of the town wits. Preferring the pleasures of travel to the life of study, he dropped out of Columbia and, after tasting Europe, tur~ed his thoughts to marriage. In 1839, he wedded Catherine Matilda Taylor, daughter of an English architect practising in New York.

With Christian Bergh's death in 1843, the shipyard was closed, and Henry and his wife, childless and well off (contemporaries put their wealth at several hundred thousand to continued

Bergh was motivated not by a sentimental attachment to animals. but by some abstract concept of justice.

a million dollars), travelled and lived extensively in Europe.

In Europe, Bergh reacted rapturously to the right things-the Parthenon, the Tirol, the cathedral at Cologne. A hint of the future came in Seville, where the Berghs attended a bullfight and were revolted as some eight bulls were killed and twenty horses eviscerated.

Sometimes Bergh carried official dispatches, which entitled him to a "cabinet passport" and immunity from prying customs officers. The couple was in favour at various American legations, and attended soirees at the Elysee during the presidency of Louis Napoleon. The American minister at the Court of St. James's, Abbott Lawrence, presented Bergh to Prince Albert, and later he was escorted to the House of Commons, where he saw Sir Robert Peel and Lord John Russell. In 1850, he visited Russia and was shown through the Kremlin.

Bergh turned to literature and diplomacy, since the American Government was dispatching a number of literary envoys-for instance, Washington Irving was at that time Ambassador in Madrid. Early in 1863, President Lincoln named him to succeed Bayard Taylor as legation secretary at the court of Czar Alexander II. While in Russia, he had watched the peasants beat their horses and had, from the legation carriage, directed his splendidly liveried Vladimir or Alexander to order the droshky drivers to stop it. "At last," he commented, "I've found a way to utilize my gold lace." This was the turning point in Bergh's life towards his true mission.

Yet he admitted that he had never been particularly interested in animals. Once when he was calling on Miss Clara Morris, a leading emotional actress of the period, he drew back when her small dog put a friendly, inquiring paw on his knee. And he had even been capable of actions which, in his later years, he would have been the first to condemn. An entry in an early Bergh diary tells of an evening in Athens when, "as every other amusement had been exhausted, we gentlemen sallied out and stoned the dogs with which the city abounds."

Not as one devoted to pets, then, nor again out of a sentimental flinching at happenings that caused animals pain, but rather because of a kind of abstract concept of justice, Bergh seems to have undertaken his lifework as spokesman for those who could not speak

for themselves. Yet one wonders if that quite covers it. Horses, one feels, must have been his secret passion. His speeches, lectures, and reports were filled with affectionate praise of "that generous and faithful servant, the horse" and "that noble creature, the horse."

Before leaving London for New York in June of 1865, Bergh was introduced to the Earl of Harrowby, president of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, then in its forty-first year. Stimulated by what he learned of the service rendered by the RSPCA, Bergh decided to fMnd a similar society in the United States, modelled upon the English pattern.

After careful preparatory work, Bergh unveiled his proposal on the stormy night of February 8, 1866, at New York's Clinton Hall. He had assembled a small but impressive audience which included the mayor (later the governor of New York), John T. Hoffman, and the department-store king A.T. Stewart. Frederick A. Conkling, soldier and merchant, occupied the chair while Henry Bergh spoke.

"Last evening," read the New York Times's one-sentence report, "Henry Bergh, Esq., delivered a lecture on 'Statistics Relating to the Cruelties Practised upon Animals,' before the members of the American Geographical and Statistical Society, with a view to the establishment of a society kindred to that so long in successful operation in London, and in the other cities of Great Britain and Ireland."

Noting in a quick historical survey what had happened to animals (and humans too) in the Roman arena, the tortures inflicted in the Spanish bullring, and the brutalities of modern French vivisectionists, Bergh denounced the blood sports popular in New York, the abuse of horses by street railway and omnibus companies, and the barbarities that accompanied the transportation and slaughter of food animals.

"This is a matter purely of conscience," he concluded. "It has no perplexing side issues . . . it is a moral question in all its aspects .... It is a solemn recognition of that greatest attribute of the Almighty Ruler of the Universe, mercy, which if suspended in our case but for a single instant, would overwhelm and destroy us."

Support came at once from Mayor Hoffman and Stewart, from Peter Cooper, manufacturer, inventor, philanthropist; from John

Jacob Astor, II; Henry Clews, the banker; and many other prominent New Yorkers. Bergh was elected president of the ASPCA, and other prestigious names were added as officers, board members and financial supporters.

Bergh now had at his disposal an effective law and a private society clothed with public authority. Bergh himself was empowered by the attorney general of the State and the district attorney for the city to represent them in all cases involving the law for the protection of animals. In later years, as conditions improved, educational activities and relief work for disabled, sick, injured, or unwanted animals became more important than arresting and punishing offenders. This gain was due in part to the same influences that led to the emancipation of the slaves, prison reform, and the temperance and woman's-rights movements. Another circumstance helped: the ASPCA was able to secure convictions in over ninety per cent of all cases that reached the courts.

Bergh hoped that the word "American" in the title o( the society would come to stand for a national organization. But the charter, under New York laws, was not appropriate elsewhere, and the idea of branches outside New York State proved impractical.

The ASPCA's influence, however, was national, fo'r many State and municipal societies quickly came into being; those in Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and San Francisco were among the earliest. Within five years, an astonishingly short time for the penetration of a new idea, nineteen American States and the Dominion of Canada had established societies of similar character.

From a little upstairs room at Broadway and Fourth Street, plainly furnished with a Manila carpet and a few chairs, Bergh reached out to enlist support-to former President Millard Fillmore in Buffalo, urging him to establish a branch there; and to other friends throughout the country. The president of the ASPCA thought his task in New York the hardest.

There was a coarseness in New York life a hundred years ago that gave the ASPCA no small range of activity. Wealthy sportsmen held pigeon shoots in which live birds were first damaged in a wing or blinded in one eye, to create interesting flight patterns.

At the other end of the social scale, the lowlife sporting fraternity flocked to the dog and rat pits. At Kit Burns's Sportsmen's Hall

The magazine Puck maintained that Bergh's concernfor animals was mono-maniacal, as this cartoon implies.

Infact, it once suggested that "he retire, at his earliest convenience, to the nearest lunatic asylum."

at 273 Water Street, bulldogs fought black bears in the tradition of mediaeval bearbaiting.

Henry Bergh seemed to be everywhere, fearlessly raiding the dog and rat pits and cocking mains, and working boldly in the streets. The president of the ASPCA carried a cane that could be used as a weapon of defence, but usually a lifted finger and a glimpse of his official badge were sufficient to stop the carter with an overloaded dray or the butcher caught plucking live poultry.

In addition to nabbing offenders, Bergh spent long hours in the Court of Special Sessions, where he was formidable in crossexamination, or atop the bleak hill at the Capitol in Albany, appearing before legislative'committees. Meanwhile, he carried on the routine business of the society, cajoling the editors of New York's fifteen daily newspapers, writing tracts on vivisection and the care of the horse, lecturing, and raising money.

"My time by day and night," he wrote to a correspondent, "is devoted to the Institution which I have founded."

One blustery winter night at the rush hour, with slush ankle-deep in the streets, Bergh concentrated his forces at Chatham Street (now Park Row), where a half dozen car lines converged. Bergh and his men ordered every horse that was lame or sick out of the traces. The condition of the wretched streetrailway horses was notorious: it was not uncommon then to find parts of the harness embedded in an animal's flesh. That night there was plenty of work for the ASPCA men.The result was a virtual blockade. Thousands of New Yorkers had to foot it uptown, growling, cursing, hungry, wet, and fighting mad. "Who did this 1" was asked on all sides.

And the answer came. "Bergh."

In the face of such criticism, Bergh was

always urbane. But there was a hint of menace in his letters to indolent or uninterested judges, to newspaper editors careless Of their facts, or, as an instance, to Tiffany & Company, whose wagon, he pointed out, the night before at about seven o'clock, on Fifth Avenue below Twenty-third Street, was' drawn by a horse unfit for service.

Bergh was precise. When he wrote to the police captain in West Thirty-fifth Street about a horse that had been abandoned in the gutter to die, he gave the name of the owner, the name and address of the man who committed the act, and the name and address of a witness. When Bergh complained to William H. Vanderbilt about a "dead lame" horse owned by the New York and Harlem Railroad, he gave the date and identified the horse as being attached to Fourth Avenue car No. 30. "I have adopted a habit through life," he wrote to a justice who was delaying unreasonably on a horse-abandonment case, "of always pursuing a subject until it is brought to its legitimate conclusion."

Applying to his animal-welfare objectives P.T. Barnum's operating philosophy about publicity-"I don't care much what the papers say about me, provided they will say something" -Henry Bergh undertook to overcome apathy through developing a spectacular case: the amelioration of torments visited upon green turtles. The turtles, .the source of soup and succulent steaks, were transported by sailing ships from the tropics to the Fulton Fish Market in New York; they lay on their backs for several weeks, without food or water, held in place by ropes strung through holes punched in their flippers.

Bergh boarded a schooner engaged in the turtle trade, and arrested the captain and crew. He reinforced his position with a

letter from Professor Louis Agassiz, the famous Harvard zoologist, assuring him that turtles could feel hunger, thirst, and pain and had, besides, certain minimal rights. A sceptical judge acquitted the defendants by holding that a turtle was not an animal within the meaning of the law. The case was a nineday wonder, with the newspapers making extensive facetious comments on the nature of turtles and aggressive humanitarians.

Henry Bergh was a constant annoyance to P.T. Barnum in the latter's zoological activities, although Barnum usually extracted valuable publicity out of their clashes. An incident occurred when the ASPCA learned that the boa constrictors in the Broadway menagerie were being fed living animals in the presence of paying customers. The resulting pressure from Bergh was so heavy that at one time Barnum had to send his snakes to Hoboken to feed them, beyond the reach of the ASPCA, whose writ did not run in New Jersey.

Barnum found a way to punish Bergh.

He obtained from Agassiz a letter saying that snakes required live food and expressing doubt that the active members of the ASPCA "would object to eating lobster salad because the lobster was boiled alive, or refuse oysters because they were cooked alive, or raw oysters because they must be swallowed alive." The president of Barnum & Van Amburgh's Museum and Menagerie thereupon demanded an apology from the president of the ASPCA and released to the newspapers the complete correspondence concerning the controversy.

Some years and several incidents later, Barnum embarrassed Bergh again when he announced that Salamander, the Fire Horse, would jump through fire as one of the main attractions of the Barnum, Bailey & Hutchinson show. Bergh rose to the bait and sent Superintendent T.W. Hartfield of the ASPCA with five agents and twenty policemen to stop the act. Barnum entered the circus ring and gained the audience's sympathy with a clever speech, predicting that, if he were arrested, "I shall place a hoop of fire around Henry Bergh that will make him warmer than he has been in the past and probably than he will ever experience in the future!" The fire hoops were ignited. The impresario himself leaped through the hoops, followed by ten clowns and Salamander.

Finally, Superintendent Hartfield himself passed through the fire unsinged. The flames were artificial, produced by a harmless chemical.

Respect and even affection developed between the two extraordinary characters after continued

Soon after his death, Bergh-was applauded for carrying out a unique work compassionately, if imperiously.

Bergh defended Barnum on an occasion in 1885 when the latter was attacked for using elephant goads. The showman began contributing to both the New York and Connecticut anti-cruelty societies and announced from his home in Bridgeport that he was "the Bergh of Bridgeport." In his will, Barnum bequeathed a thousand dollars to Bridgeport for the erection of a statue to Bergh.

As the years passed, the ASPCA kept a vigilant eye on the market for worn-out horses; on the city dog pound, where strays were executed with revolting cruelty; and on the treatment of draft animals along the Erie Canal. Bergh's concern for animals resulted also in a severe arraignment of the dairy business, with beneficial side effects upon sanitation and public health. Bergh is also credited with devising derricks and slings for raising large animals that had fallen into excavations, and with the invention of the clay pigeon to save maimed birds from the guns of trapshooters. He also put an ambulance wagon into service for New York's animals two years before Bellevue Hospital introduced the idea for humans.

Bergh opposed vaccination and took on the medical profession in a sharp controversy over vivisection. But a bill of protest failed of passage in the State Legislature, "both houses," as he expressed it sadly, "refusing to interfere with the torments of experimentation . . . inflicted . . . on mute defenceless creatures." Bergh's ASPCA, and indeed all humane groups taking a general approach to the field of animal protection, later left the subject of experimentation upon live animals to organizations that addressed themselves specificallyto the issue.

In 1874,a case of flagrant brutality towards a child known as "Little Mary Ellen" aroused widespread interest and sympathy after the emaciated child, clothed in rags, appeared in court displaying a mass of scars caused by repeated beatings with a pair of shears. As a result, Bergh and his associates (independently of their animal work) launched the first organized movement for child protection in the United States through a body known then, and now, as the New York Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children.

Henry Bergh's power and prominence, his frequent entanglements with commercial interests, and his peculiar physical appearance-he was one of the oddest. sights on Broadway-all served to keep him and the

ASPCA in the news. Because of his idiosyncratic temperament, his rueful countenance, and, to some among the press, the unreality of his objectives, cartoonists of the day frequently delineated him as a nineteenthcentury Don Quixote, mounted upon a bony Rosinante. To his active antagonists, and to those who simply preferred to let well enough alone, Bergh became known as "the Great Meddler."

Anecdotes had it that as a child Bergh had manifested a special sensitivity to the welfare of animals: once he jumped off a pier near his father's shipyard, one story went, and nearly lost his life when he attempted to rush to the rescue of a dog that some older boys were about to drown. Other unsubstantiated items were that young Bergh once persuaded his parents to give up mousetraps and flypaper, and that he had cured an aged mouse of neuralgia with Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup.

Bergh's courage was tested on many ,occasions. He received numerous anonymous letters, embellished with crude skulls and crossbones and scrawled with BEWARE'S, advising him to leave town. One post card named the day and the hour when he would be assassinated. A drayman, arrested for overloading his horse, took a cut at Bergh with a piece of iron; fortunately he missed. Once Bergh pulled two large men off a heavily laden coal wagon that a single horse was straining to drag through the snow.

The ASPCA was charged with bearing down on the poor while excusing the rich. But the truth was that Bergh had difficulty when he tried to call to account members of the business and social elite; the courts held, for example, that unless an officer qf a corporation personally hit a horse on the head with a shovel or left it to die in the street he could not be held responsible.

Although Bergh was derided and defied, the annual reports of the ASPCA demonstrated that humanitarian sentiments were taking hold. Humane societies were multiplying, and in some States (Colorado and Wisconsin are examples) animal-welfare activities were carried on by government agencies or bureaus. The press, on the whole, came to support Bergh, for the good work of the ASPCA was self-evident. By the 1880's, the cartmen of New York were tipping their hats respectfully to president Bergh, and the Fulton Fish Market men, who had once

spattered his clothing with chicken viscera and fish heads, were giving their old adversary a courteous salute.

New York City, always Bergh's special domain, came to regard indulgently and even affectionately the tall old gentleman with the kindly yet dyspeptic face and the courtly manners who, when he stopped a teamster for some offence and saw a crowd gathering, would deliver a little talk on Americanism and kindness. The speech became known as Bergh's curbstone address. It always included the appeal to free men to obey laws of their own making. And in all he did, he always had a further objective in view, which he wrote out in French just three years before he died: Les hommes seront justes envers les hommes, quand ils seront charitables envers les animaux.

Henry Bergh kept bachelor hall during his later years in a brownstone house at 429 Fifth Avenue, with two nephews in residence, with his clutter of curios, his objets d'art, and his many memories. His wife had been an invalid for years, confined in a home at Utica, New York, where she died in 1887. The Great Meddler died in his home during the Blizzard of Eighty-Eight, and was immediately applauded as a man who had carried on a unique work compassionately, if at times imperiously, and who had created a profound alteration'in the moral climate of nineteenthcentury America. Mr. Bennett's morning Herald, which had gotten so much mileage out of Bergh's foibles, eulogized him, and the New York Citizen, an old antagonist, announced that "the man who loved his fellow animal is mourned by his fellow man."

Recognition took many forms. Milwaukee, like Bridgeport, erected a monument. Columbia University became the seat of a Henry Bergh Foundation for the promotion of humane education. Elizabeth Chase Akers' poem Two Saints compared Bergh to Saint Francis of Assisi, and Barnum, while observing that "no man is perfect," saluted Bergh's work in behalf of the animal world.

A more imposing monument than the one over Henry Bergh's grave is the flourishing network of anti-cruelty societies that exists today in North America, along with the many federated humane societies, the specialized auxiliaries such as animal-rescue leagues, shelters, defenders of wildlife, and placement services for homeless animals. They testify to the power of a man whose ideas gave kindness a new dimension.

END

IN THE SERVICE OF INDIA'S ANIMALS Severely lampooned in the newspapers of his day, Bergh was eventually supported by the press. Above, Puck's comment on his proposal that fire escapes be providedfor animals.

Daily Graphic printed the sketch at right. with Bergh wrapped in a horse-blanket overcoat.

In cartoon below the gorilla sobs, "That man wants to claim my pedigree. He says he is one of my descendants." At which Bergh says, "Now, Mr. Darwin, how could you insult him so?"

A FEW WEEKS AGO, at a brief ceremony held at Rashtrapati Bhavan, President Zakir Husain presented the Prani Mitra Award for 1968 to Mrs. Rukmini Devi Arundale.

The award was instituted by the Animal Welfare Board, of which Mrs. Arundale is president, for outstanding services in the field of animal welfare.

Better known as a former Bharat Natyam dancer or as the founder of the Kalakshetra institute in Madras, Mrs. Arundale has nevertheless been concerned about the plight of animals ever since she was a young girl. The proceeds of her first public dance performance went towards building a weigh-bridge for draught animals.

Since then her work in the service of animals has received recognition from many quarters. In 1958 the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals bestowed on her the Queen Victoria Silver Medal, and the following year the Council of the World Federation for the Protection of Animals at the Hague added her name to its roll of honour.

Mrs. Arundale's years as a member of the Rajya Sabha were spent in tirelessly advocating the cause of animal welfare. Her memorable report on the subject resulted in the 1960 Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Act, which provided for the setting up of the Animal Welfare Board. Affiliated to the Board are some 150 branches of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA) which are largely responsible for enforcement of the Act. (continued)

"Kindness to animals does not mean indifference to human misery. Compassion should extend to all living beings."

SPCA work in India goes back more than 100 years-the Calcutta and Madras. units, for example, have already celebrated their centenaries. Typical of the SPCA in India is its Delhi unit, which was founded in 1915.

In the shadow of the towering new Tees Hazari Court building in Old Delhi, there stands a cluster of small white-washed structures, spread over an area of about two acres. These are the stables, sheds and kennels which form the SPCA's hospital and infirmary. Within these structures there are horses, cattle, donkeys and mules, many showing visible evidence of mistreatment and all now receiving the attention of the unit's first-rate veterinary staff. Last year the hospital treated almost 11,000 large animals and 6,000 small animals, in addition to 7,500 out-patients.

.' In the hospital's clean, bright and well-designed kennels, there are dogs of every description, most of them pets who have been admitted to the hospital for treatment.

There is a little brown dachshund with a bandaged paw; a terrier puppy is undergoing treatment for distemper; and a golden retriever has been operated for haematoma of the ear.

A large part of the Delhi SPCA's work is conducted along the highways and byways of the city. Every morning ten teams, each consisting of a sub-inspector and five constables, set out on bicycles to tour various parts of the city. They are on the look out for people mistreating or overloading animals.

Overloading is one of the most common offences. For a small donkey-drawn cart, the maximum permissible load under the law is seven maunds, but it often happens that the animal is made to draw more than twice this weight.

As soon as an offender is caught, he is served with a challan, and taken to SPCA headquarters. The case is later heard in court by a firstclass magistrate. If guilty, the offend-

Mrs. Rukmini Devi Arundale, winner of the 1968 Prani Mitra Award. Her work in the service of animals has received recognition from many quarters.

er is fined up to a maximum of Rs. 50, and the animal is often ordered to be detained in the SPCA hospital for treatment: In the case of habitual offenders, the animal may even be confiscated. In 1968 the Delhi SPCA's road staff prosecuted 15,131 offenders, resulting in conviction of 15,031.

The vast majority of animals that the SPCA deals with are those normally encountered in everyday lifecows, bullocks, buffaloes, horses, donkeys, dogs and cats.

Occasionally there are camels.

Dr. S.D. Sharma, the hospital's veterinary officer, explains that the feet of the camel are suited for walking on soft, sandy surfaces. Being made to walk long distances on metalled roads can cause sores, blisters and infection, and may lead to lameness.

For this reason, Dr. Sharma feels that camels should not be used for drawing heavy loads along metalled roads. On the other hand, he points out, a camel has the capacity to do the work of a pair of bullocks when used at the plough or at the Persian wheel, so long as it can walk on soft ground.

Over the years the SPCA hospital has treated a wide variety of animals -bears, gorillas, civet cats, chimpanzees, Mandrill monkeys, black panthers, tiger cubs, gazelles, and ant-eaters. Among its most illustrious patients were the pandas that belonged to Jawaharlal Nehru.

One of the hospital's most interesting patients was a two-and-ahalf-year-old female chimpanzee, Rajni, who was rushed from the Gwalior Zoo with paralysis of the left arm and leg. After a few days of treatment which included anti-biotic drugs and vitamins, olive oil massage, and a special diet, she began to show signs of recovery. Soon she could eat an apple, drink tea out of a cup and saucer, and eat porridge with a spoon-all using her left hand. As much of her food was kept in the refrigerator, she even advanced to the stage when she could open it and help herself. When it was finally time for Rajni to leave! she was given a huge send-off by the hospital staff. She showed her appreciation by refusing to get into

the van that would carry her back to Gwalior.

The annals of the SPCA are filled with individual acts of kindness to animals. During last year's drought in Bihar, for example, a member raised funds from domestic and foreign sources to build tanks and small water reservoirs for the herds of chital, sambar, elephant, bison and wild boar that inhabit the reserved forests in Palamau District.

In the fifty-three years since it was founded, the Delhi SPCA has taken up many causes in defence of animals. It has carried on a vigorous propaganda campaign against the methods used to train animals for circus and film performances. It has investigated the question of the export of monkeys from India, the conditions prevailing in local slaughter houses and the methods used to destroy stray dogs in Delhi.

A frequent criticism of the SPCA in India is that when there are so many human beings in need of help, it is almost callous to spend time and effort on the welfare of animals. To this SPCA workers reply that there is really no conflict between the two; while there is no question that human welfare is infinitely more important, the two can advance side by side. They point also to the importance of respect for animal life in Indian thought and religion-it is implicit in the principle of ahimsa, and it is a basic tenet in Buddhism and Jainism.

Actually, Indian history and mythology are full of stories of concern and affection for animals. Ashok the Great made animal sacrifice illegal; Emperor Shibi gave his life to a hawk in order to save a pigeon; Maharaj Dilip of the Solar Dynasty offered himself to a lion as a substitute for a heifer; King Yudhishtir refused to enter Heaven without his faithful dog; and Lord ..Krishna tended the cows in the forests of Vrindavan.

The question of human versus animal welfare was put in perspective by Mrs. Arundale when she said: "Kindness to animals does not mean indifference to human misery.

Compassion should extend to all living beings."

END

TH E ¡LAST YEARS

OF

OLIVER.., WENDELL

HOl: ES Oliver Wendell Holmes, Associate Justice of the United States Supreme Court for twentysix years, was a liberal in a conservative era, who, through his carefully reasoned minority opinions achieved uncommon fame for his literary dissents. The following article, abridged from the last three chapters of YANKEE FROM OLYMPUS,

recounts the last years of one of America's greatest jurists.

anny Holmes was eighty-eight. For some time it had been obvious that she was failing. No one dared tell her, dared help her up the long stairs or out of her blue chair by the sitting-room fire.

Fanny Holmes had always been impatient of illness.

Now, at eighty-eight,'h,er back was straight as ever, her eyes as bright. But the faithful Mary, helping her mistress dress in the mornings, heard her sigh, saw her close her eyes, leanher head against the chair. At breakfast, going round the table, Mary noted that Mrs. Holmes did not touch her food. "You willdie if you don't eat," Mary said, standing before her mistress, speaking bluntly in her Irish voice, her blue eyes wide with distress.

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Holmes said briskly. "It is my business to stay alive."

More than ever, Fanny seemed glad when

F

Copyright 1943, 1944 by Catherine Drinker Bowen. Reprinted by permission of Harold Ober Associates Incorporated.

June came and she and her husband could go to Beverly Farms, to the brown house beside the pines, to her rose garden. Preparing to leave Washington, she walked round her house, looked at the furniture, stopped before her pictures.

Beverly Farms was glad to see the Holmeses come. At the Public Library Miss Larcum had saved a whole pile of new detective stories for the Judge. The crossing keeper hobbled forward, inviting Holmes to stay for a chat.

O'Brien the policeman brought his guitar round, sat on the steps and sang Irish songs.

"The Judge comes each year," the older people said, "and brings us such comfort."

But this summer they noticed the change in Mrs. Holmes. What would the Judge do without her? The two had been together fiftysix years. Reminiscently the town talked it over. At the livery stable, Larcum told about a summer not long ago when he had driven Mrs. Holmes to the depot to meet the Judge.

The horse started running and didn't stop till they got to Pride's Crossing. Mrs. Holmes hadn't acted scared. She just leaned out and called, waving her parasol. "Larcum! If you kill me, tell him I loved him."

The stories were endless. Mary Donnellan said the Judge was very fussy about his bookIs. One time in Washington some old volume was lost and the Judge made an uproar, cussing at his secretary, at Jones and everybody that came near. All through it Mrs. Holmes hadn't said a word, just looked at him in that sharp way she had.

But when the Judge came back from Court the book was in its place on the shelf. An American flag stuck out above it and underneath Mrs. Holmes had hung a sign, neatly printed: " I am a very old man. I have had many troubles) most of which never happened.Âť Mary said the Judge laughed until he cried.

Late in September, Beverly Farms bade good-bye to the Holmeses. The leaves were

already turning on the maples when Larcum,. drove them to the station. "Be sure to bed down my roses," Mrs. Holmes told him, "before the frost comes."

But when they got home to Washington, Fanny did not seem refreshed by her summer.

In the evenings, rising from her chair she swayed, reaching for the chairback. "It was the journey," she said. "I am a little tired. I shall be all right as soon as we are settled."

But as the weeks passed her fatigue did not leave her but rather increased as the cold came on, and the brief Washington snows. She spent more and more time upstairs in her sitting room. Her friends called, bearing flowers, little gifts. In the late afternoon Fanny dressed and went downstairs. Holmes, coming in, would find her dozing in her chair and when. he spoke she started, rousing herself with difficulty. If it was a wife's business to outlive her husband, then for Fanny Holmes it was the hardest bit of business she had ever undertaken. Her days, her hours, had become a perpetual struggle to stay awake, to keep alive, to remember.

All the small anniversaries, the rituals and ceremonies of half a century of married life, she observed now with a rigid, almost desperate care.'

A few days before the turn of the month, at the hour when Mrs. Holmes usually dressed for dinner, Mary Donnellan went into the room-and found her mistress lying on the bed, breathing heavily, her face distorted. She had fallen, managed somehow to reach the bed. "It's nothing," she said. "Mary, tell the Judge it is nothing."

The doctor came. Mrs. Holmes had broken her hip. He spoke gravely. They would put it in a cast, do all they could. But the bone would never knit, the patient was too old.

The days passed. The house was filled with nurses carrying trays, visits from the doctor. The windows were open to the garcontinued

den; apple blossoms blew their soft breath in the bedroom and from the porch below a mockingbird called. The figure on the bed moved. "Mary! Where is Mary? Has she fed my birds?"

Wendell Holmes, sitting by the window, got up, went downstairs .... Looking out to the garden, Holmes saw the magnolia was beginning to bloom. He would ask the nurse if Fanny's bed could be moved so she could see it. ...

The doctors said that Fanny did not suffer.

She had no actual illness, no fever. But sitting by the bedroom window in the evenings, the late afternoons, Holmes saw her face drawn as though with suffering. Her head turned towards him slowly. "I am tired, Wendell," she said. "That's all-I am very tired. Perhaps you had better go away now, and I will take a little nap."

One afternoon late, Walter Howe, the young lawyer from next door, rang the bell.

"I won't come in," he told the coloured man.

"I just wanted to ask-" "Please come in, sir," Jones said. "I know the Judge would like to see you. He is lonely."

Holmes came down the long stairs. He had on his velvet smoking jacket. "Come in, Walter," he said. "Fanny is asleep ....

She is asleep. She was very tired." He paused.

"We don't think she will wake up, ever."

He led the way to his study, took out a little etching. "I made that myself when I was eighteen." He was silent, then spoke slowly, as though rehearsing a lesson learned with pain, yet learned thoroughly, hour by hour.

"When you are eighty-nine, you can't really expect to live much longer."

That evening-it was the last day of April 1929-Mary brought Mrs. Holmes's supper tray as usual. She found her mistress dozing, the Judge in his chair by the window. It had been a warm, bright day, in the growing dusk the garden was still, a thrush spoke from the branches of the apple tree. Gently, Mary roused her mistress, propped her on the pillows and turned to the tray.

Before she could turn back-without a sigh, without sound or complaint-Fanny Holmes leaned her head against the pillows and died.

Holmes did not want a funeral. When Chief Justice William' Howard Taft came to the house, Holmes met his questions stiffly.

Fanny would not want a funeral. She hated all that kind of thing.

Taft had been very fond of Fanny Holmes; he had known her years ago in Beverly Farms. Like her, he was a Unitarian. He left the house, consulted with Charles Evans Hughes. The two returned, told Holmes gently it would not do. This was the wife of a Supreme Court Justice; the country would be shocked, would misunderstand.

Holmes yielded and Taft arranged for a simple service at home. It was Taft also who secured a plot in the soldiers' burying ground at Arlington. Holmes had always wanted to be buried there, but he had been too shy to ask the Secretary of War for this favour. Now he and Fanny would lie there together.

Fanny's body was taken to Arlington, but the service at home was delayed some two weeks. There was no one in the house now but the servants and John Lockwood, Holmes's secretary. In those weeks, alone with the Judge, young Lockwood saw philosophy tested in a hard hour. Often, Holmes had talked of life and death, saying gravely that life was action, the use of one's powers. And now, with half his life snatched from himand there was no possible doubt that this woman had been half his life-the Judge went serenely on. The routine did not break, the work was done hour by hour. It was like the routine of a soldier, inexorable, accomplished moment by moment in the face of death itself. Simply, the Judge was living out his philosophy.

A case had come up in Court concerning freedom of speech. The United States v.

Schwimmer. Holmes knew which way the majority would vote-and with every drop of his blood he disagreed. Sitting at his desk he examined the briefs and the evidence ....

Rosika Schwimmer had been denied citizenship. She was a pacifist ... fifty years old. She had testified that in case of war she would not bear arms ....

Holmes pushed aside the papers, reached for his pen. ... If there is any principle of the Constitution that more imperatively callsfor attachment than any other it is the principle of free thought-:-not free thought for those who agree with us but freedom for the thought that we hate .... I would suggest that the Quakers have done their share to make the country what it is....

I had not supposed hitherto that we regretted our inability to expel them because they believe more than some of

us do in the teachings of the Sermon on the Mount.

It was the last week 'of May before, the Court rendered decision. Holmes read his dissent. When it was over he drove to Arlington, across the Potomac and up the hill to Fanny's grave. Above on the hilltop, the columns of Lee's mansion showed through the trees, the flag waved. Far below the river moved, broad and shining.

Holmes got out of the car. Buckley, the driver, got out too and followed across the grass. Standing a little aside, Buckley watched his master-as he would watch again and again for six long years when they came to this place.

The ritual would be always the same.

Walking to the stone. Holmes laid his flower on 'it-a rose, a poppy, a spray of honeysuckle-then stood silently. Silently still, his hand touching the stone, he moved round it with a little patting motion of the fingers.

Then he turned, and walked downhill through the trees. hen Court opened for the autumn term, Chief Justice Taft looked at his brethren with an anxious eye. Old age, it seemed, had in no way modified Holmes's wrong-headedness; he still read the Fourteenth Amendment the way Brandeis read it, and he was almost a fanatic on the subject of free speech. There were, luckily, five to steady the boat: Van Devanter, McReynolds, Sutherland, Butler, and Sanford. But "Brandeis," Taft remarked, that December of 1929, "is hopeless, as Holmes is, as Stone is."

By all the laws of nature, Holmes should retire. As the New Year approached, newspapermen asked the usual question. Taft read Holmes's reply and was not' comforted. "I shall not resign or retire," Holmes had said, "until the Almighty Himself requests it."

But the Almighty saw fit to request-and suddenly-a quite different retirement. On Holmes's eighty-ninth birthday, March 8, 1930, Taft himself died, aged seventy-three.

The President appointed Hughes Chief Justice. Coming back to Court after fourteen years, Hughes watched Justice Holmes a trifle apprehensively. Was a man of eightynine capable of a full day's work in this most exacting job? Lately, Holmes's legs had become very weak. Hughes noted how Brandeis helped him to his sea!. (continued]

W

The first lawyer stood up. Holmes took out his notebook, unlocked it, slipped the key in his pocket and began to write. The Chief Justice smiled; he had forgotten this old trick of Holmes's. At the lunch hour he asked to see the notebook .... Holmes had not missed a detail. It was a perfect synopsis.

But after lunch when the Justices were in their places and the lawyer had talked for ten minutes, Holmes put his fingers to his forehead and went off to sleep. Hughes reached out cautiously, poked him in the leg. Holmes sat up. "Jesus Christ!" he said loudly, and the Courtroom stirred. Later that afternoon, McReynolds interrupted a lawyer who was young and obviously inexperienced. Holmes took his hand from his forehead and leaned forward. "I wouldn't answer that question if I were you," he said clearly to the young man, and went back to sleep.

In May, Holmes got ready a dissent that would sum up what he had tried to say so often concerning the rights of the States to make their own economic experiments. This was a tax case-the third in rapid succession where a man's heirs balked at paying a transfer tax on bonds moved across the State line.

In all three cases McReynolds, speaking for the Court, said it was a violation of the Fourteenth Amendment for a man to be taxed in two States on transferred securities, and in all three cases Holmes dissented.

Preparing his dissent in the last caseBaldwin v. Missouri-Holmes talked about it to his secretary. Of course it was disagreeable for a bond owner to be taxed in two places at once, and he would say so in Court. Butwhy did men make such an infernal fuss over these things? With taxes a man buys civilizationby no means a bad bargain.

If Missouri wanted to levy this particular kind of tax, Holmes saw nothing in the Constitution to prevent it. In nullifying these State taxes the Court, it seemed to him, acted on their own economic theories-and then called upon the Constitution as a sanction. Holmes had already stated his views briefly in the first two cases. But there was more to say and he intended to say it: "I have not yet adequately expressed," he began on that day of May 26, "the more than anxiety that I feel at the ever increasing scope given to the Fourteenth Amendment in cutting down what I believe to be the constitutional rights of the States. As the decisions now stand, I see hardly any limit but the sky to the invalidating of those rights if they hap-

pen to strike a majority of this Court as for any reason undesirable .... " No limit but the sky. The phrase caught the nation's ear. The New Republic said no graver words had been spoken on the Supreme Court since Justice Curtis read his dissent in the Dred Scott case. The Baltimore Sun said Holmes had given an "inside spanking" to a Court that was far too concerned with property rights. The Chicago Daily News) the New York World) the Milwaukee Journal) applauded this judicial prod in the ribs of a propertyconscious Bench. Holmes's picture was printed, showing him walking to work on his eighty-ninth birthday. "Alert Justice Holmes," the caption read.

Holmes saw it. Alert-that was how he felt himself; it was good to know he was not deceived. The phrase was more reassuring somehow than any compliment to his intellectual powers or that "legal acumen" the papers loved to talk about. Standing before the hall mirror on a fine afternoon late in May, Holmes looked at his reflection. His light gray suit fitted him nicely. He put on his gray hat with the wide black band and stepped back .... This was a better effect than that portrait hanging so impressively in the library at the Law School. Charles Hopkinson had painted it-full length in judicial robes, crowned with white hair and mustache. "That isn't me." Holmes had said when it was finished, "but it's a damn good thing for people to think it is."

·

olmes's ninetieth birthday-March 8, 1931-fell on a Sunday. The . newspapers greeted him warmly.

"He is one of us, and few people can say that of such a man. He ~spart of all our past. It is hard to think of a future that he will not share."

Sitting in his library, Holmes read his birthday messages. From England came notice that he had been made a member of the Honourable Society of Lincoln's Inn-the first time the Benchers had elected anyone outside the British Empire. The Harvard Law Review for that month was dedicated to him.

The Lord High Chancellor and the AttorneyGeneral of Great Britain had written in it; so had Pollock, Chief Justice Hughes, and Roscoe Pound. Felix Frankfurter came down from Harvard, in his hand a new book entitled Mr. Justice Holmes) filled with articles about him by such men as Cardozo, John Dewey, Professor Wigmore, Walter Lipp-

H

mann, Judge Learned Hand. Frankfurter himself had an article in it. Holmes turned the pages slowly as Frankfurter, beaming with pleasure, stood before him.

Holmes looked up, trying to joke it all away, but could not, and wept a little instead at the tone of affection that lay so plainly beneath these public greetings ....

Strange not to hear Fanny's voice, breaking in. WenH

del/! Your hair needs cutting .... Wendell) did you know the New York Journal thinks you are <the labouring man) shope' ?"... So many

to praise-but none, not one, to cut through with the sharp familiar voice that alone dares bring a man back to earth, back to the battle where he belongs while his powers endure.

Wendell-I see by the Transcript that if •••

H

you keep on you may be almost as famous your father, some day."

as

That Sunday evening there was a microphone on Holmes's desk. At half-past ten, the President ofthe Bar Association and Dean Clark of the Yale Law School would speak from New York, Chief Justice Hughes from Washington. Holmes was to answer them briefly. The day before, the Associated Press had said the Justice would probably not use all his five minutes; he didn't like speeches and publicity. "But let everyone listen; this man is one of the few who make literature out of law."

Up in Cambridge, five hundred people gathered in Langdell Hall. There were speeches about Holmes, and reminiscences, until at last the room was silent, all faces turned to the microphone. The familiar voice came through, speaking slowly-a little tired but clear and articulate, rhythmic as always: In this symposium my part is only to sit in silence. To express one's feelings as the end draws near is too intimate a task.

But I may mention one thought that comes to me as a listener-in. The riders in a race do not stop short when they reach the goal. There is a little finishing canter before coming to a standstill.

There is time to hear the kind voices of friends and to say to one's self: "The work is done." But just as one says that, the answer comes: "The race is over, but the work never is done while the power to work remains." The canter that brings you to a standstill need not be only coming to rest. It cannot be while you still live. For to live is to

function. That is all there is in living.

And so 1end with a line from a Latin poet who uttered the message more than fifteen hundred years ago: "Death plucks my ear and says, Live -I am corning."

Next day-Monday-the nation noted with pride that Justice Holmes was at his place on the Bench and delivered a majority opinion. All that spring he did not miss a day. To watch him was a miracle. "Justice Holmes," the papers said, "makes of old age a pleasure, something to look forward to."

But the people near him, the household, knew that his strength was very limited nowthat he tired quickly and could no longer work at night. Next autumn, after the summer at Beverly, a great change was noticeable.

Holmes was bent nearly double. In the afternoons after Court, Brandeis carne round to go driving with him. They walked down the steps to the car, Brandeis on one side, Buckley on the other. "Straighten up there, Judge!"

Buckley would say imploringly. "You don't want to walk all bowed over like that." Together the two men tried to pull him straight.

"It's not so easy as you think," HoImes said, cursing jovially.

On the morning of January II, 1932, Holmes had a majority opinion to deliver-a case under the Prohibition Act: James Dunn v. the United States. In the robing room, Arthur Thomas, the tall, gray-haired Negro who had been Holmes's messenger for so long, helped him on with the heavy silk gown. The Justices entered the Courtroom, climbed the dais.

Brandeis was not in Court that day. Chief Justice Hughes, holding tightly to Holmes's arm, felt him lean heavily, stagger a little.

When his time carne, Holmes leaned forward, picked up the papers in Dunn v. the United States. Spectators noticed how well he looked; the cheeks were pink against the white hair and mustache. But when he began to read, Holmes's voice faltered, thickened.

He shook his head impatiently and went on.

But what he said was barely audible beyond the front row of benches.

At the noon recess, Holmes left the Courtroom with the other Justices, ate his box lunch and returned to the Bench. When Court rose at four-thirty, he got his hat and coat, walked over to the Clerk's desk. "I won't be down tomorrow," he said.

That night, Holmes wrote his resignation to the President. ... The time has come and I bow to the inevitable. I have nothing but kindness to remember from you andfrom my brethren. My lasi word should be one of grateful thanks.

Brandeis missed him most. Next day the Justices wrote Holmes and sent the note around by messenger. Holmes sent back his reply: My DEAR BRETHREN: You must let me call you so once more. Your more than kind, your generous letter, touches me to the bottom of my heart. The long and intimate association with men who so command my respect and admiration could not but fix my affection as well. For such little time as may be left for me I shall treasure it as adding gold to the sunset.

Affectionately yours, OLIVER

WENDELL

HOLMES

courage a man to panic. People talked of revolution. An ugly word. Holmes had heard it before. Seventy years ago he had seen the country corne through a revolution-they called it a Civil War. He had prophesied that not internal disputes but competition from new races would test whether our government "could hang together and could fight." He still believed it. There were plenty of things wrong with the Government and while free speech endured there would be, fortunately, plenty of people to stand up and shout about it. But Holmes believed the United States Government was strong and would endure.

He had said so more than once.

As for his own successor, he hoped it would be Cardozo. Not only was Cardozo's legal philosophy close to his own; the man's sensitiveness of perception, his generosity of view, were extraordinary. But it was not Holmes's business. He had resigned, retired.

Holmes's resignation left a solid conservative majority on the Bench. At such a time this was more than a misfortune, it was a disaster. The choice was in Hoover's handsand in January 1932, three years of depression Silence, resignation. To sit-in one's library had wiped out the nation's confidence in its in the morning and read eulogies of oneself, President's ability to do anything right, let receive admiring visitors .... Were there any alone choose a liberal justice. The Senate had crowns in heaven or earth to take the place turned down Hoover's last appointee to the .of the work a man loved? In all his life, Court-Judge Parker of North Carolina; Holmes had never been without a job. At with protest they had accepted Hughes as night the papers on his desk, the Year Book Chief Justice. with the marker at the page-these had been for him the bridge between night and mornWhat if Hoover put in Calvin Coolidge?

His name was on the list. Or John W. Davis, ing. The very act of waking each day had or Rugg of Massachusetts? Republican in- been exciting, with the battle waiting. ÂŤBusurgents like Senator Norris, DerilOcratic gler, blow the charge! I am ready .... " Senators from Arkansas, Montana, Texas, And now the bugler blew his charge no issued statements that were half praise for the more. The battle was over, the challenger departed, half angry warning for the future. still. Holmes felt tired. When he tried to write In this worst financial panic of history, the his friends about his resignation, it was hard nation turned to the government for relief, even to hold the pen. asked control over prices, credit, commerce.

Anxiously the household watched him.

The demand, carrying more power and more For the past ten years Dr. Adams, the family desperation than any such popular demand, physician, had said the Judge would die if he before, bore almost the aspect of revolution. stopped work. Holmes, indeed, had said it The nation, in short, asked protection himself. Now the prophecy seemed in danger against a system that had let disaster corne of fulfilment. upon it. Newspapers ran angry editorials: But it was not fulfilled. Three years of life remained, and they were not to be unhappy Government is at stake! The resignayears. Once more Holmes rallied, once more tion of that noble old justice, Holmes, his spirit reasserted itself. destroys a liberal majority of one. Let It was to Pollock he gave testimony. It was the U.S. Senate put Hoover's choice of "wonderful and incredible to have no duties;" that liberal majority of one under a he could not have believed how much he microscope-and fight to the last ditch would like it. His secretary read aloud by the for a new justice having the views-if hour while Holmes played solitaire or sat not the legal acumen-of an Oliver listening. Often he seemed to doze, but if the Wendell Holmes! secretary stopped reading, Holmes sat forward instantly. "What?" he would say.

Holmes read the reports, heard all over "What, Sonny?" And he would begin instantthe nation the alarums sound-and was not ly to discuss the book. Just before they went afraid. Ninety years of living does not en- to Beverly Farms, Holmes wrote to Pollock continued

,

At age 90 he told President Roosevelt that he read Plato "to improve my mind."

that he must surely be getting cultivated-his secretary calculated they had read 4,500,000 words! Spengler and John Dewey, Salter and Belloc and McDougall and C.D. Broad"sweetened," Holmes said, by re-reading all of Sherlock Holmes. He couldn't agree with Parrington and Beard that the American Constitution represented a triumph of the money power over democratic individualism.

Belittling arguments always have a force of their own. "But you and I," Holmes added to Pollock, "believe that high-mindedness is not impossible to man."

Beverly that summer was beautiful. Fanny's rose garden bloomed riotously and his o~n patch of wild flowers seemed lovelier than ever. Old friends came out from Boston, bringing their grandchildren. Holmes enjoyed these young 'people. There was a singular and striking beauty now to Holmes's face, a quality almost luminous. Sitting on the porch he discussed life with Betsy Warder, aged sixteen. "I won't refrain from talking about anything because you're too young," Holmes' told her, "if you won't because I'm too old."

In the autumn when he returned to Washington, Frankfurter sent down a new secretary as usual. It would do the young man good, he said, to be with Holmes even if he was no longer on the Court. Holmes protested, but he was very glad to have a man in the house to talk to. The secretary watched the Judge with amazement. Why, the old man attacked his breakfast like a cavalry officer in the field!

After breakfast the Judge announced he was going to loaf all day. "Ninety-two has outlived duty" he said with what seemed a vast satisfaction. Half an hour later he was calling for the secretary to read to him. "Let's have a little self-improvement, Sonny."

Beyond all other traits, this perpetual thirst to learn surprised both young and old. Franklin D. Roosevelt, a few days after his inauguration in 1933, came round to call. He found Holmes in his library, reading Plato. The question rose irresistibly. "Why do you read Plato, Mr. Justice?"

"To improve my mind, Mr. President," Holmes replied.

It was true. The rule of joy and the law of duty seem to me all one. Years ago, Holmes had said it, and time had not disproved it. To the beholder there was something enormously reassuring in this spectacle of a man so old and so wise, who still desired to learn.

The morning the President called, Frankfurter was there, and Harold Laski. Three

days earlier-March 5-Roosevelt had closed the banks, laid an embargo on gold and called a special session of Congress for March ninth.

March ninth was tomorrow. Tomorrow the President, standing before Congress, would present his plan for the national emergency.

Rising when his visit was ended, Roosevelt paused at the door, turned earnestly to Holmes and addressed him as the greatest living American. "You have lived through half our country's history; you have seen its great men. This is a dark hour. Justice Holmes, what is your advice to me?"

Holmes looked at him. "You are in a war, Mr. President," he said. "I was in a war, too.

And in a war there is only one rule: Form your battalions and fight."

he seasons rolled by.... Spring and summer ....

Beverly, with Fanny's delphinium still blue and tall by the gate. Washington again, with the Justices coming round to call. Brandeis and Cardozo, Stone with a new etching for Holmes to pass upon. Frankfurter, bounding up the long stairs to the library, his arms full of new books, talk bubbling on his tongue.

More than ever, the country was impatient with the Supreme Court. The papers were full of it; except for Stone, Brandeis, and Cardozo the Court didn't have an idea which way the world was turning.

Roosevelt's National Recovery Act was under bitterest attack. Obviously, the Court was going to vote it out of existence. They did. Reporters rang the bell at I Street. "There is nothing to howl about," Holmes told them.

"There have always been changes in the interpretation laid on the Constitution, and there always will be."

One day-it was the twenty-third of February, 1935-Holmes came down the steps in the early afternoon with his secretary and got in the car to go for a drive. It was a bitter day, windy, with a threat of snow. Next morning Holmes had a cold.

The Judge went to bed, sneezing, and the sneeze turned to a cough, to something worse.

Holmes was ninety-three, and he had pneumonia. By March, the city knew that he was mortally ill.

Holmes knew it too, and was not dismayed.

"Why should I fear death?" he had remarked to his secretary a few weeks earlier. "I have seen him often. When he comes he will seem like an old friend." Holmes had loved life. .â&#x20AC;˘. "If the good Lord should tell me I had

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only five minutes to live, I would say to Him. 'All right, Lord, but I'm sorry you can't make it ~en.' " He had loved life and he had believed in it. ... "If I were dying my last words would be: Have faith and pursue the unknown end.".

Now he was dying-and he said nothing half so dramatic. He lay quietly, joking with the nurses. What was the use of all this trouble -coaxing an old man to eat, giving him stimulants? "Lot of damn nonsense," Holmes grumbled, moving his long legs under the covers. Life waS-what had he called it, in that speech at Harvard? "Life is action and passion." People said death was a rest from labours. It wasn't a rest-it was an obliteration, a passing of bone into dust, of one set of chemicals into another set of chemicals. And that was right too. Very right and proper.

He had had his share. Six years ago, half of life had died, with Fanny. But even half of life had been good. To have done what lay in you to do) to say that you have lived) and be ready for the end .... Oliver Wendell Holmes waited

quietly in his bed.

March 2, 3, 4 ... Acr03s the street in an office building, newspapers held the death watch. Was the Justice going to live until his ninety-fourth birthday? Photographers hung round the front door, taking pictures of Chief Justice Hughes, of Brandeis and Mrs. Roosevelt. Taxi drivers, cruising by, called out to the policeman stationed at the door. "How is he? How is the Judge?"

On the fifth of March, ~ate in the afternoon, newspapermen saw an ambulance stop outside the door. An oxygen tent was carried in. Holmes, opening his eyes, watched the huge, unwieldy contraption wheeled to the bed, saw them lift the tent above his face. He made a movement. "Lot of damn foolery," he said clearly.

At two in the morning the doctors knew the end was near. They took the oxygen tubes away. Holmes lay with his eyes closed, breathing quietly. Outside, in the March garden, wet branches creaked and from the alley came the sound of wheels. As the doctors watched, Holmes died, taking his departure so quietly it was hard to tell when he was gone.

Mark Howe, the signs of grief plain on his face, went downstairs, opened the front door.

From across the street a dozen newsmen rushed at him. They listened, then raced for the telephone.

The funeral was held at All Souls Churchthe old, white-pillared building at the head of

Sixteenth and Harvard Streets. A wet wind blew across the square. People stood on the curb, watching the Justices at the church steps. The bell tolled .... That was Brandeis, they said, going up the steps; the Justices were to be pallbearers. Those six men waiting beside them had been Holmes's secretaries.

The service wouldn't be long; this was a Unitarian Church. Afterwards the army would carry the Judge to Arlington. cc And Moses chose from among the people able men, such as feared God, men of truth, hating unjust gains, and set them over the people to judge them at all seasons " The minister's voice was low Outside, mounted policemen turned traffic away from the church .... "At the grave of a hero-" the minister was reading from Holmes's own words now-"at the grave of a hero we end. not with sorrow at the inevitable loss, but with the contagion of his courage: and with a kind of desperate joy we go back to the fight."

The President and Justices waited beside Holmes's grave. The procession came in sight, winding down the hill past Lee's house.

Soldiers lifted the coffin. covered with the American flag, bore it across wet turf.

A soldier, standing a little apart, raised his bugle and blew taps.

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES CAPTAIN

AND BREVET

COLONEL

20th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry, Civil War JUSTICE

SUPREME UNITED

COURT STATES

OF THE

Free speech, like truth itself, cannot be achieved by statute. But the Bill of Rights was still worth fighting for. Abrams v. the United States .... Gitlow v. the People of New York. ... United States v. Rosika Schwimmer .. , .

"Free thought-not free thought for those who agree with us but freedom for the thought that we hate."

There was indeed a great contagion in this courage-a courage not born with Holmes but handed down with all the accumulated force, the deep spiritual persuasion, of the generations behind him.

Men called the doctor's son the Great Dis¡ senter. The title was misleading. To want something fiercely and want it all the timethis is not dissent but affirmation. The things Holmes wanted were great things, never to be realized. How can man realize the infinite?

Have faith and pursue the unknown end.

March 1841 March 1935 From the floor of Congress, from the White House, from the Inns of Court in London, scholars and statesmen gave tribute, and for a few days the people mourned. But Holmes's real fame was to come slowly; the growth of his influence was to be measured, as deep and sure, as the forces that had shaped him. Time, events, history itself, would prove his dissents. One by one they became law. ... Hammer v. Dagenhart. Child labour can be regulated by Congress .... Lochner v. New York. The liberty of the citizen to do as he Whether a man accepts from Fortune her pleases does not mean he can force other men to work twelve hours a day .... Coppage v. spade and will look downward and dig, or Kansas.... Truax v. Corrigan, and in Massa- from Aspiration her axe and cord, and will chusetts. Vegelahn v. Guntner and Plant v. scale the ice, the one and only success which Woods. "I think the strike a lawful instrument it is his to command is 10 bring to his work a in the universal struggle for life." mighty heart."

END CC

Ten tiDIes excellence

ONE OF THEHIGHLIGHTS of the World Olympic Games is the gruelling contest of ten track events spread over two days and known as the decathlon. In the words of Bob Mathias, a former champion, "it is a track meet in itself-a rugged two-day workout." More than any other contest in the games, it calls for the highest standards of physical fitness, intensive training and versatility.

Among United States contenders for the 1968 decathlon gold medal, Bill Toomey is outstanding. At twenty-eight, Toomey, who is a school-teacher in California, is older than most of the competitors.

But his rigid, scientific training routine-which includes studies of diets and equipment and even preparation of his own health drinkmay well give him an edge over his younger rivals. He has been the U.S. national champion three consecutive times and his chances of winning the coveted honour this year at the Olympics in Mexico (continued) City are rated high.

Toomey's regular job is teaching ninth grade students at Santa Barbara, Calif.

He has the strong upper torso needed/or shot-put and sprinter's slender ankles.

Lack of spectator interest in early morning events does not worry Toomey, below. Ignoring empty stands, he gets into the mood for his next effort. A big man, 1.80 metres in height and weighing eighty-five kilos., he is unusually agile for his size and weight. He makes the broad jump, at right, in characteristic style and, at bottom, his muscles flexed, is ready to begin run for leap over pole vault bar.

Fibre-glass poles, which have now been in use for about six years, are an aid to better performance.

Bill Toomey's agility is specially noticeable when he runs in the nO-metre hurdles; he is also gifted with the ideal physique for the composite competition of the decathlon.

100-METRE DASH BROAD JUMP SHOT-PUT (16 POUND) HIGH JUMP 400-METRE DASH

110-METRE HURDLES DISCUS THROW POLE VAULT JAVELIN THROW I,500-METRE RUN

Continuing our series of features on the American States, this article portrays some aspects of the history, economy and culture of five States-New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, New Jersey and Delaware-known collectively as the Atlantic Gateway.

ATLANTIC ALTHOUGHColumbus did not land in New York, or anywhere near it, it is the ports on the eastern coast of North America which have been the main gateway for the millions of immigrants into the United States. In the air age New York City has retained its supremacy as the country's largest transport centre. Foremost among the world's industrial and financial capitals, it is also the home of famous educational institutions and cultural organizations, offering its citizens many oppor-

Gateway to America .

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tunities of entertainment and enlightenment.

The region has a large, sprawling industrial complex. Development of agriculture through use of efficient, modern techniques, has kept pace with industrial expansion.

Other cities of the Atlantic GatewayPhiladelphia, Pittsburgh, Baltimore-have not lagged behind New York in achieving a high rate of economic growth and combining it with much progress in the fields of education and the arts. (continued)

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is Boldt Castle, a romantic stop for tour boats in the Thousand Island section of St. Lawrence River.

Immortalized by its battle of the American Civil War in 1863 and by President Abraham Lincoln's famous address, Gettysburg

is now a national shrine.

Some of the fiercest battles of the American War ofIndependence and the Civil War were fought in Pennsylvania and other States of the Atlantic Gateway. Historic battle sites and monuments are now popular tourist spots and attract thousands of visitors.

With extensive urban development over many decades, the towns of colonial days have changed almost beyond recognition.

But small, prosperous rural communities dot the countryside and are reminiscent in some ways of nineteenth-century America.

Large manufacturing centres have grown up in the region, which also has seyeral major installations for generation of nuclear power, space and missile development projects. The heaviest concentration of iron and steel plants in the country is in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where industrial technology has attained high levels and the most uptodate manufacturing techniques are in use.

Birthplace of the American nation, Independence Hall, Philadelphia, where the Declaration of Independence was signed on July 4, 1776, now looks out on a spacious Mall and a transformed city.

Television aids Pennsylvanian worker in guiding steel plates at proper speeds through heating and cooling processes without risk to himself. Safety is prime consideration in plant operation.

IF THEGATEWAYOF INDIA, in Bombay, is the traditronal entrance to and manufacturing companies, E.1. du Pont de Nemours Co. the Indian sub-continent, the famous Statue of Liberty in New York Agriculture, too, plays a significant role in the region's economy. harbour is the historic landmark welcoming immigrants and visitors New York State alone has about 83,000 farms, with a large output of to the New World. milk. eggs, fruit and vegetables. Intensive cultivation of potatoes and The second largest city in the world, New York might be described other vegetables, mostly for consumption in New York City, is caras the epitome of l110dern America. Its towering skyscrapers sym- ried on in Long Island, not far from the city. New Jersey has a limited bolize bigness and affluence. Its thousands of retail stores, industrial amount of farmland since much of its area is taken up by suburban and financial establishments are a vital part of the country's complex. residences for people employed in New York City and Philadelphia. thriving economy. Its roads crowded with automobiles and a vast But adoption of intensive farming techniques has resulted in very satispublic transport system, with hundreds of bus routes and hundreds of factory improvements in quality and yield, and gross income per farm miles of subways, reflect the fast tempo of American urban life. Home acre is the highest of any State in the U.S. Its prosperous, diversified of the United Nations and a large diplomatic community. the city is agriculture has earned for New Jersey the title of "The Garden State." also the foremost centre of international activity in the world and an Expansion of transport facilities has kept pace with the economic index to the United States' major role in international affairs. growth of the region and the increasing influx of overseas visitors, New York commenced its history in 1613 as a tiny Dutch settlement especially into New York City. Opened in 1825, before the building of and was originally named New Amsterdam. When war broke out the railways, the Erie Canal connecting Buffalo in the western part of between England 'and the Netherlands and an English fleet appeared New York State with New York City, became a valuable artery of before the walls of the town in 1664, the Dutch governor capitulatcommerce. It is now part of the State's 800-mile-Iong Barge Canal ed and the colony changed hands without a single shot being fired.

System. A vast network of railway lines and modern highways links New Amsterdam became New York in honour of James, Duke of the urban centres of all States with the countryside and with other York, brother of the English King. Charles the Second. parts of the United States. But nearly half of overseas travel to and Together with other States of the Atlantic Gateway, New York from the United States and a total of some seventeen million passengers played a crucial role in the eighteenth century American War of a year are handled by New York's Kennedy International Airport.

Independence and the nineteenth century American Civil War. The The educational institutions of the region are unrivalled, both in old battlefield of Saratoga, where one of the decisive battles of the quality and quantity. New York State has some three million students Revolutionary War was fought in 1777, and the forts at Rensselaer in its public schools and more than half-a-million in colleges and and Ticonderoga, in New York State, are now popular tourist spots. universities. Among region's,'universities are such famous names as Another historic site is Gettysburg in Pennsylvania, marking the norColumbia, Cornell, Johns Hopkins, Princeton, Pittsburgh. Cornell thernmost point reached by the Confederate army under General has been a leader in agricultural education. and its research ,and Robert E. Lee in the Civil War, and famous as the place where extension activities have profoundly influenced farm practices in President Abraham Lincoln delivered his stirring address.

New York State-and around the world. The Johns Hopkins UniEven more famous perhaps than any of these sites is Independence versity and Hospital, Baltimore, is recognized as one of the foremost Hall in Philadelphia. Pennsylvania. It was here that the original thirmedical institutions in the world. A number of Indian doctors have teen colonies signed on July 4, 1776, the Declaration of Independence attended the university for advanced medical study or researc:h. marking the birth of the American nation. The American national For the millions of visitors who come to New York City every year anthem, "The Star Spangled Banner" was inspired by the British the bright, scintillating lights of Times Square and Broadway's theatre attack on Fort McHenry in Maryland in 1814. Its author, Francis district are an unfailing nightly attraction. Near Broadway is one of Scott Key, was moved by the sight of the flag flying heroically on the newest additions to the city's cultural venues-the Lincoln Centre the fort after a night of incessant bombardment and penned the for the Performing Arts which houses. among other drama and music lines of the song on an envelope he pulled from his pocket. institutions. the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. Hardly lagging Rich in historical associations, the Atlantic Gateway comprises a behind the great metropolis in art and cultural activity is also the region of exceptional economic development. The climate, in general, historic city of Philadelphia, the home of many art galleries. is one of extremes, with summer temperatures averaging eighty-five Of the scenic highlights of the region, the giant Niagara Falls on degrees Fahrenheit, win,ter twenty-six degrees, and an annual rainfall the New York-Ontario border have pride of place. The American of forty inches. But it is stimulating and favourable to physical Falls which attain a height of 193 feet power one of the largest hydroactivity. A major geographical factor which has influenced developelectric plants in the world. Other tourist attractions include Delament is the region's proximity to the Sea. New York, Philadelphia ware's famous sea beaches, New Jersey's parks, Maryland's racing and Baltimore handle a large volume of foreign trade and around events and Pennsylvania's county fairs and Dutch folk festivals. the ports have grown up large, populous transport and manufacturWhile representing urban, industrialized America at its busiest and ing centres. (Baltimore has been the starting point of many shipments liveliest, the States of the Atlantic Gateway also contain many small of American wheat for India in recent years.) rural communities away from the din and bustle of the great cities and manufacturing centres. In such a community near Perkasie, The vast industrial complex of the area includes manufactures Pennsylvania, lives Pearl Buck, the famous novelist and Nobel prizeranging from iron and steel to apparel and food products. Pennsylvania has large deposits of coal and leads the country in production winner. Speaking of her neighbours, she says: "Most Americans are of iron and steel, centred mainly in Pittsburgh. The first successful oil like our villagers. They love their homes, they like their own kind of well was also drilled in Pennsylvania in 1859, heralding the birth of food, they want peace above all. ... They try to do their daily work the world-wide petroleum industry. The State is now a major producer as well as they can. They are not different from the neighbours I had of petroleum and natural gas. In New York garment making employs in England or France or Italy. A difference in food and housing, more workers than any other manufacturing industry. About half a difference in language, but no more. With all the world peopled the nation's advertising business and one-fourth of all printing and by such as these. surely we can live in peace together?"

END publishing are also handled in New York City.

Wilmington, in Delaware-the second smallest State in the U.S .. but the first to ratify the Federal Constitution-has the distinction of Aerial view of Pennsylvania farm, at right, shows colllOllr ploughing and being the headquarters of one of America's largest corporations strip cropping. This method protects soil from erosion hy rain and wind,