A Few Hours in a Far-Off Age/Chapter 3
CHAPTER III.
FREDERICK, whose eyes have been brightening as his mother's recital proceeded, exclaims:
"How I should like to have been that grand old savage, thus to live in memory of all ages, for justice! (Then reflectively) But, dear mother, I cannot see why we should wait so many years before we can be useful. Veritée has passed the standard, and in about a year I expect to reach it. Yet we are to remain powerless in the State for so many years longer!"
"True, my son, and most wisely is it so. When you have your standard certificate, the most important part of your education will commence. Knowledge of the world with its present and future requirements; growth of justice and benevolence over impulse; and a strength of judgment which only the watchful experience and earnest reflection of many years could teach. If the guidance of human kind were again given to youth, the world would once more be thrown back to the nascent condition of youth; and (with an amused tone in her voice) the older senators of both sexes would have to resort to a third chamber that their wiser politics might not be disturbed by the noise of un-thought ideas. I admire your homage to the grand old savage, as you call him but that appellation was not well chosen. For though he lived in a half-savage time, and was surrounded by many who were nearly savages, he was one of the few in advance of their era—not comprehended by the thoughtless multitude. The first wave of a grand tide, bringing its treasures to endure through all time."
She is interrupted by a voice through the telephone telling that the desired alcove awaits occupancy.
They rise. Frederick takes his mother's hand, and says some words I cannot interpret.
Veritée, half reflectively, as if looking into the perplexing past:
"I always think our Founder must have been a bravely truthful man to have so risked the hurt and ridicule of ignorance, which appears to have been malignant all through the world's history."
They walk through an opening leading to a passage formed by the backs of the cases and wall of gallery.
Stopping suddenly, the elder lady says:
"You did not notice the figures in the case fronting our alcove; but," walking on again, "it matters not now. I particularly wish to descend the Ages in their own order. The alcove I intended to commence in, this morning, was engaged."
"Yes," says Frederick, in an uninterested tone, "I saw them. Some sort of monkey."
"Monkeys, my dear! You are thinking of some other case. They are ancient Britons—very ancient—and modelled after well-executed drawings."
"Indeed mother, I looked well at them. Naked, hairy vicious animals, standing upon their hind legs. Please return, the alcove is not yet occupied."
"There," says he as they arrive before the case, "are they not apes?"
With a half serious, and somewhat of droll, expression in her eyes, she replies gently:"No, they were not so named, though there is certainly some excuse for your doing so. They were always called Britons. However, call them what you will—man or ape—they were the progenitors of some of the greatest civilizers."
They retrace their steps, the boy with his former look of indignation. It is evident he is not yet reconciled to his ancestors.