Then, through that astounding age of miracles, the Nineteenth Century, I passed, although to elaborate that spectacle of accumulated achievements were vain in this place. Suffice it that at length I reached the point whereat I closed my Lancet before sleeping; and yet, contrary to my expectations, the panoramic vision still unrolled, still swiftly sped onwards and onwards to strange matters as yet hidden within the void of Time to come.
Now indeed might the unfolding phantasmagoria arrest my senses, for the Nineteenth Century was past, the Twentieth also (marked by a horror in its midst), with many successive ages—whose tremendous records were written and sealed—mere foundation stones, deep buried beneath the river of the Past, for the fair structure of the Present uplifted upon them.
I stood before a vast and imposing erection—an edifice of prodigious dimensions towering skywards, yet without one touch of imagination or trace of beauty. It was evidently well adapted to some enormous utilitarian needs; but a mud-heap or modern prison had been as fair to see. Squat as a toad it lay, yet the amazing size of it even its unlovely fabric and ungainly mass could not conceal.
Now from this pile my attention was attracted to the crowds of young persons who were streaming thither. The youth of the whole earth seemed to enter its enormous gates and vanish within them. Costume had clearly come upon a period of simplicity and earth colour. Dull beyond description, therefore, were these tremendous processions under the noon sunlight.
Then came one of the race of men and stood beside me and eyed me curiously; and I inquired of him the nature of this universal festival, and of these crowds of young men and women who entered the palace in orderly legions.
He seemed surprised.
“Truly, you have journeyed from a far country to ask such a question,” he answered; “and indeed your speech and raiment mark you for one from beyond the pale of civilisation. This is Inoculation Day—the highest festival and fête of the human year; and these you behold—the young men and maidens—are about to receive this vital rite, each according to his or her requirements as heredity’s archives indicate. But there is a talk of giving all up as needless now, for the evils to be eradicated have almost disappeared from human nature.”
“For God’s sake don’t give it up,” I said. “They did at the beginning of the Twentieth Century. A cowardly crew, with an irrational dialectician at their head, made Vaccination optional to catch votes for party purposes in the House of Commons. One generation of fools passed and were allowed to bring up their offspring unvaccinated. Then came the Day of Reckoning. That was in the Year of the Lord 1950. Britain suffered what she deserved; but it was an awful lesson—shade of Jenner!—an awful lesson.”
The stranger smiled.
“That is one of the few human names still cherished from a remote antiquity,” he observed.