The DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of Better Things for Better Living through chemistry presents the Cavalcade of America starring Basil Rathbone. Tonight from the stage of the Belasco Theater in New York, the DuPont Cavalcade returns to the air for its 17th season. Our play, Towards a New World, is the story of Joseph Priestley, one of the immortals of science. Our star, the distinguished actor of the stage and screen, Basil Rathbone. The time is the latter half of the 18th century. The place, a brewery near Leeds, England. I say, pardon me. What's that? It's Count Joseph Priestley, the minister. I'm looking for him. It's a bit unseemly, but I was told I might find him here in this brewery. He's here all right. How extraordinary. Well, do you think I might see him? Aye. See that bat yonder? The big one? Aye. See the fella leaning over into it? Yes. That's the minister. My word. What's he doing? Bubble collecting, like always. Bubble collecting? Extraordinary. I fished him out of the mash twice last week. Really? Get him to the point where we spend more time lifting the minister out of the mash than we do brewing beer. Well, thank you. Will it be all right if I go over there? Aye, but be careful. Don't you be falling in. Oh, I'll be careful. I beg your pardon. Here. Now, I'll be careful. I beg your pardon. Hold this tube. Really? The tube. Hold it. There. Now, put the end in the jar there. But look here. Quickly. Yes, yes, of course. Is it secure? Yes, yes, I suppose it is. Now, hold me by the seat of my britches. Well, now, really. Well, come on, quickly. The best bubbles are in the middle of the vat and I must get to them. Come, hold me by my britches. Well, all right. I've got hold. Hold tight. I'm holding. Now, the air bubble's coming up. Out there. I put the funnel right over that one. Fine. Now, hold me back. All right. Excellent. I think we've obtained some wonderful specimens. These broody vats offer the best bubbles of air. I'm sure they are the same as Dr. Black's. Hot air, got them from limestone, you see. They burst over the fermenting beer. Interesting. But what of it? Well, now, to be honest, I'm not quite sure. Are you new here? New? Yes, I mean newly employed in the brewery. I don't recall seeing you before. Oh, I'm not a brewer, Dr. Priestley. My name is Shelburne, Lord Shelburne. Oh, my goodness. I've come rather a long way to see you. Indeed, sir. I've heard remarkable things about you, sir, from my mutual friend of the Pennsylvania Colony, Dr. Benjamin Franklin. Oh, Dr. Benjamin Franklin. Yes. You're the dignified minister who dabbles in chemistry. Most unusual. When I heard about you, well, I just couldn't resist the impulse to search you out. And why, sir? When? Because, in a sense, we are of the same species. The curious amateur, the inquisitive neophyte, philosophical peeping tom. Exactly. Well put. Now, tell me, what have you here? In this jar? Yes, sir. What about the, shall I say, magic elixir you have collected from those mash bubbles inside? Look, if you'll give me the honor of walking with me to my little workshead, I'll demonstrate my discovery. It's quite near here. Then you have found something. Oh, yes. Yes, I experiment. I dabble, as you say. And now, in my amateur way, I've found something. It's very exciting. But there's one thing wrong. Oh, yes? For the life of me, I don't know what it is. Now, come over here, my lord. I certainly said in here. Now, here in this jar, I have some of this peculiar air. Yes. I've put the tube from this jar into this next jar that is half filled with water in this pneumatic trough that I've devised. Now, I'll put a little pressure on the air. See what happens. The air is passing from the bell jar to the water. Yes. Now, let me pour a little of it for you to drink. Drink? Yes. Well, why not? It has the taste of seltzer water. Come on, taste it. Well, no, I... Well, it won't do you any harm. Look. I'll drink it myself. Ah, there. Now, you. Just one raft. Well, I... Well, why not? All right, let me have the tumbler. Why, I say, it's delicious. You see, some people travel all the way to seltzer on the continent to drink the waters of the mineral springs. I go no further than the laboratory. But what produces the taste? Oh, this air is held trapped by the water. What causes the phenomenon, I can't say. But the result is tasty, if nothing else. Fascinating, fascinating. Tell me, you don't just come upon these phenomena so easily. You must have had excellent training in natural philosophy. No, no, none at all. No? No, Franklin was right. The minister who dabbles in chemistry, a hobby, that's all. But what aroused your interest? Well, my lord, originally, it was a series of lectures I attended while teaching at the Warrington Academy. Then, by lucky accident, I met Dr. Franklin in London. He inspired me to investigate electricity. But I found my main interest lay in the nature of air. What is it? What is its mystery? And so I dabble. Dabble? Oh, nonsense. Dr. Priestley, I think your findings here are worthy of note. I'm delighted Franklin spoke to me about you. This work deserves to be brought to the attention of the Royal Society in London. And with your permission, I'll see that that body grants you a formal audience. Oh, come, my lord, I hardly think... Oh, I'll hear no arguments. I mean... Oh, yes? Joseph, it's supper time. Oh, it's Mary, my wife. Oh, come in, Mary, please. In there, with all those vile odors, I should say not. Mary. Mary dear, we have a visitor. Oh? My lord, may I present my wife? Mary, this is Lord Shelburne. Lord Shelburne? Why, we're honored, sir. I'm honored to be here. You have a gifted man for a husband, Mrs. Priestley. Thank you, my lord. Would you like some tea? Some biscuits? No, no, no, no. This is not a formal call. Just dropped in to make my eyes believe what my ears have heard. Oh. Yes, and now I must be getting along. Dr. Priestley, you will write me as soon as it's convenient for you to appear before the Royal Society? I... Yes, I... I'll think about it. Oh, no, no, no. Don't think about it. Please, turn and come to London. The meeting of the Royal Society is now adjourned, gentlemen. May I congratulate you, Dr. Priestley. And may I too, sir. Thank you, thank you very much. Priestley, Dr. Priestley. Dr. Franklin, well, what a wonderful pleasure seeing you again, sir. I came in a trifle late and sat in the back rows, but I saw everything. It was a superb demonstration, Priestley, but wonderful. I shook all the time. Well, you couldn't tell it at all. This is the most rewarding experience I've had since I've come to London. Everything I've done here in England for the cause of the American colonies seems to be ending in failure. No, no, no. I don't believe that. I don't believe that a righteous cause can ever fail. That may be true in theology. Alas, would it were true of everything else. I have enough of my troubles. This is your night. Your trouble. I am. Thank you, sir. Thank you. And what is next? What black cavern of the unknown will you crawl into next? I'm afraid there will be no more caverns. This is the end. The end? A good end, I suppose, but definitely the very end. My duties as a minister are crowding more and more upon me. I, well, I can't spare myself the luxury of a hobby any longer. Oh, nonsense, Priestley. It's not a question of excluding one worthy pursuit for another. Man has time for many pursuits. Cultivate this habit, my dear sir. You've begun well indeed. Too well to stop at this stage. No, sir. Your experiments on the nature of air are far too important to halt. I have no choice. I have neglected my family. Oh, Priestley, and Dr. Franklin. Oh, Lord Jelman. I come with the most tremendous news. I have a passing reputation as a journalist. Let me hear it. I've been doing a neat bit of eavesdropping. The awards committee of the society here has been in a little huddle. And listen to this, Priestley. They are going to award you the Copley Medal for your discovery of ever-vessant water. The Copley Medal? The very highest honor of the Royal Society. Yes. I am deeply touched. Well, I'll venture a prophecy. Before you are much older, you'll be collecting medals and honors as some people collect old buttons and snuff boxes. So, if you choose to regard your experiments as dabbling, my sir, my advice to you is to keep right on dabbling. There's no doubt of it. You're on the threshold of a magnificent career, Dr. Priestley. The good doctor denies the fact, Lord Jelman. Didn't I? I'm sorry, my lord. But I can't go any further with my experiments you saw for yourself. Working in a brewery, my meager equipment, that tiny work shed. Well, maybe I should spend less time on this hobby. Heaven knows I can't afford it. But I will not hear of it. I just refuse to hear of it. Well, I have no choice, sir. But you do have a choice. I make you a choice. I offer you my home. Your... Your home? You will come to my manor at Cannes. I'll give you everything you need. Apparatus, books, time, a place to experiment. I'll provide you with an income suitable for all your private needs. And now, sir, you have a choice. Oh, my lord, let me make that choice for you, Priestley. Accept in the name of science and the never-ending search for knowledge. Accept. Very well. My lord, I am very grateful and exceedingly happy. I will come and work in your home. And now, then, Lady Shelburne, you understand that I am most reluctant to intrude this distasteful matter upon you? Naturally, Mr. Cawtrout. You must realize, Lord Shelburne, that the mere presence of this man Priestley in your household... What gives him a stamp of approval? An aura of respectability. Oh, come, come, come. Get to the point. Well, my lord, what I mean is this. The townspeople are uneasy. There's a feeling that no possible good can come from Priestley's excursions into witchcraft and sorcery. What? Ah ha. But it has also come to the attention of certain quarters that he expresses himself, who are far too freely in religious and political matters. Dr. Priestley is employed by me, if you must know, as a librarian. And to conduct certain chemical experiments, we both find extremely provocative. Obviously, as a dissenting minister, he must express his convictions, and his political views are his own affair. Mr. Cawtrout, thank you for coming. You may rest assured that this matter will be considered by Lord Shelburne and myself. Thank you, Lady Shelburne. My lord, I bid you good day. Stupid person. We will have an end to it, William, immediately. You will see that your friend Priestley is off these premises by the end of the week. Now, now, now, now, now, Sophia, let's not be ridiculous. Priestley is harming no one. As a matter of fact, he's bringing us a great deal of honor. His discoveries in pneumatic chemistry are the talk of London. The Royal Society considers him one of the country's outstanding natural philosophers. And I consider him an undesirable employee. Why, the smells alone that are constantly emanating from that workshop are such a nuisance as no reasonable person could be expected to tolerate. Well, we'll talk about this some other time. We will talk about it now, and for the last time, William, either Priestley and his vile-smelling collection of bottles leave, or I leave. Hmm. What do you mean, hmm? I was just thinking, Sophia. It's an interesting choice. You are listening to the Cavalcade of America, starring Basil Rathbone and sponsored by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. This week, some 18,000 members of the American Chemical Society are meeting in New York for their Diamond Jubilee. In honor of this occasion, the DuPont Company has installed an informative exhibit on the main floor of New York's Pennsylvania Railroad Station. This exhibit offers you an exciting glimpse of chemistry's part in providing you with better homes, clothes, food, transportation, health, and recreation. The DuPont exhibit will remain in New York until next Monday. Beginning September 13th, it will be on display in Union Station, Washington, D.C., for the meetings of an international chemical society. So if you are in New York this week or in Washington between September 13th and 23rd, we invite you to visit the DuPont exhibit of Better Things for Better Living through Chemistry. We continue our DuPont play, Towards a New World, starring Basil Rathbone as Joseph Priestley. In his little workshop on the estate of Lord Shelburne at Conn, England, Joseph Priestley, minister and amateur chemist, is tirelessly working to conclude a series of historic experiments. He is unaware, however, that his position in laboratory work are threatened by the fears and prejudices of the townspeople. Come in. Come in. Oh, Lord Shelburne. Good afternoon, Priestley. I was just on my way up to the manor to fetch you, sir. I wanted you to be... Priestley, can you put your work aside for a few moments? There's something I want to discuss with you. I've come upon the most extraordinary phenomenon. You see, it's about... Phenomena? Yes. Yes. Frankly, I am not certain what to make of it. Well, that sounds interesting. Let me see. Let me see. Well, it began in the afternoon, yesterday afternoon. Yes. I was experimenting with a new 12-inch heating glass on some red precipitate of mercury. Now, I found that air was being expelled from the precipitate very readily. And this air I collected in a bell jar. Now, what type of air is this, I said to myself? Air extracted from mercury. That's extraordinary. Yes. Well, I decided to find out. You know, I took the candle... Yes. ...as I take this candle now, and I placed it in a bottle of the trapped air from mercury, as I do now. Well, the flame. Look at it. It's doubled, tripled in size. And the way it glows. Quite hot. What is the explanation of this phenomenon? I admit my ignorance. It's beyond me. But it concerns the nature of air. In what way? Well, I don't exactly know. But what I should really like to do is to bring this to the attention of some great chemist who could explain all this to me. I mean all my experiments. Ah. Lavoisier of Paris. No chemist in the world is his equal. No, no, no, no. That's out of the question. I can't go to Paris. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. By Jove. Lady Sheldon shall have her wish. You shall leave Cannes, Priestley. Only I shall leave with you. We'll both go to Paris. To Lavoisier. Oh, Mary, Mary, my dear. What's the matter? Oh, nothing, dear. Oh, come, come now. Why, why the tears? It's nothing. Oh, tell me, please. It was silly, but... Oh, it's nothing. Oh, Mary, Mary, my dear. Oh, Mary, Mary, my dear. Oh, Joseph, it hurt me so deeply. What, what did? I was shopping at the market and some people, oh, I suppose they meant no cruelty, but they hooted and laughed and made some terrible remarks. They called you a dissenter, a nonconformist because you don't believe and worship the way they do. They even called me a witch. Ah. Fear and prejudice. Well, I'm afraid I'm going to die. Fear and prejudice. Well, my dear, a prettier witch never bestowed a broomstick. I have an idea. Tonight we shall ride tandem and cast a spell over all the prattle mouths of Cannes. Joseph, why must you keep meddling with pots and jars all the time? You say yourself you don't understand some of these things you come upon. I don't know, Mary. Not a trained chemist or scientist, I know. But something keeps me at it. Now, can't stop. Don't you understand that a man may be compelled to act sometimes even against his will? Why, I know it's been hard for you all these years, Mary dear, no money, moving from pillar to post. Tell me one thing, dearest. Are you happy doing this dabbling, this experimenting, even though you feel you're lost? I love it with my whole heart. Then keep at it, Joseph. Go to Paris. See your Lavoisier. I only hope he appreciates you as much as I do. It's kind of you to see us, Monsieur Lavoisier. Yes, yes. You are welcome, Lord Shelburne. Thank you. And Dr. Priestley comes to Paris with the finest reference. My name, Benjamin Franklin. A good man. A great man. But before we begin, I have a basic question to ask you. Well, I'll try to answer it. You think you have made a discovery of certain importance, trivial or otherwise, remains to be seen. Now then, I ask you this. What do you think you have found? I think I have found air in its pure state. The true element. Ah, so. Well, let me hear the details. My experiment was simplicity itself. I started with two bell jars. One I filled with common air. The second I filled with the new air I discovered. In each jar I placed a little mouse. And then? Well, 50 minutes passed. The mouse in the jar with the common air was dead, suffocated. But the other, in the jar with Priestley's air, was alive. Yes, yes, alive. Even scabbling about like a bumblebee in a bed of flowers. Five minutes passed, then ten, and he was still alive. Still scratching the side of the jar, wriggling his tail in protest. Exactly, that's exactly what happened. Unusual. Most unusual. What do you think, Monsieur? What is it in the air I have discovered and put in that one jar that kept that mouse alive? I do not know. But I will think. And I will ponder. And after I do that, I will see you again, Dr. Priestley, and answer your question. And here, gentlemen, are my conclusions. As you know, for ages, for all the ages of man, people have wandered over the mystery of the atmosphere we breathe. Some have come to the threshold of the true nature of air, but none before has crossed it. You have crossed that threshold, Dr. Priestley. My friend, I have duplicated every one of your experiments with candles, with mice. I have done them twice, then twice again. And the result is always the same. I knew it, Priestley, I knew it. Oh, how wonderful. I'll tell you exactly what you have done. You have led us, Dr. Priestley, to what chemists have been searching for for centuries. You have discovered an element, a new element, the most abundant element on earth. And it is that element that may help us understand the true nature of the atmosphere. But I am just an amateur. I'm not the man who should come upon a thing so great. In the search for knowledge, the chimney sweep stands on equal footing with the Chancellor of the Sorbonne. It is never who finds the thing, but what a man finds. Eh? So, Dr. Priestley, I ask of you one favor. Let me stand godfather to the child of your genius. I will give this discovery a name. I'd be honored, sir. Good. Because I believe this to be an ingredient of all acids, I name it oxygen. That is taken from two Greek words meaning acid producer. And I say this to the discoverer of oxygen. Keep on. Never step aside from the path you are traveling. Forget that you are an amateur. Never say what you do is dabbling. You insult yourself and you insult every man on earth who struggles in his own way for knowledge. Keep on, Priestley. You must keep on with your experiments. Yes. There was a time when I thought it was a matter of choice. But I was wrong, of course. Life is not divisible, nor is its labor. It is a unity, an element in a sense, like oxygen. Oxygen. Monsieur Levoitier, it has a most pleasant sound. Joseph Priestley continued his experiments. Then in 1794, beset by religious and political intolerance abroad, Joseph Priestley came to America and settled in his friend, Benjamin Franklin's, Pennsylvania. Here before his death in 1804, he discovered a new gas, now known as carbon monoxide. He formed friendships with Benjamin Rush, George Washington, and Thomas Jefferson. In 1874, on the centennial anniversary of his discovery of oxygen, the organization of an American Chemical Society was proposed by a group of chemists making a pilgrimage to his home in Northumberland, Pennsylvania. This home is now a memorial. Today the Society's Priestley Medal, the highest honor in American Chemical Science, commemorates the work of this gentle minister, who, though not a trained scientist, persisted in his spare moments in experimentation and led the world of science towards a discovery that had baffled great minds for centuries, the true nature of the Earth's most abundant element, the air. Our thanks to Basil Rathbone and the Cavalcade players for tonight's DuPont play, Towards a New World. And now, Bill Hamilton speaking for the DuPont Company. Tonight opens the 17th season of the DuPont Cavalcade of America. Each Tuesday evening, as in the past, Cavalcade will bring you a true story of men and women who have helped make America the great nation it is today, a true story that is dramatic and inspiring. DuPont also brings you news from the exciting frontiers of research in chemical science, spot news of better things for better living through chemistry. One piece of news this evening is about the 18,000 men and women interested in new scientific developments who are meeting this week in New York City. This meeting of the American Chemical Society marks its 75th year, the Diamond Jubilee. In the lifetime of this organization, its members have accumulated a vast store of chemical knowledge. This knowledge is an important key to the better living we enjoy in America today. These scientists are meeting to talk over their mutual problems, not because any government has ordered them to, but of their own free will. In America, they are free to think as they like, say what they like, and do the kind of research they like. That is one of the chief reasons why American science is great, because it is free. It is freedom of inquiry that permits American scientists to gather knowledge without hindrance. And it is freedom of enterprise which permits American business to convert so much of this knowledge into the way of life which Americans enjoy. Among the scientific achievements which serve you are many of the DuPont Company's better things for better living through chemistry. Next week, the DuPont Cavalcade will present two stars, Lorraine Day and Thomas Mitchell. Our play, No One Is Alone, is the story of how a human derelict was restored to dignity by the faith of a woman. Be sure to join us. Tonight's DuPont Cavalcade, Towards a New World, was written by Irv Tunick and was adapted from a chapter in the book Crucibles by Bernard Jaffe, published by Simon and Schuster. In support of Basil Rathbone on tonight's program, Alice Frost was Mrs. Priestley, Mercer McCloud was Lord Shelburne, Ronald Long, Benjamin Franklin, and Ross Martin was Lavoisier. Music was composed by Arden Cornwell, conducted by Donald Borey. The program was directed by John Zoller. This is Cy Harris speaking. Don't forget, next week, our stars, Thomas Mitchell and Lorraine Day. Our play, No One Is Alone. The DuPont Cavalcade of America comes to you from the Velasco Theater in New York and is sponsored by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Now hear Brian Donlevy and his dangerous assignment on NBC.
