“Yes.”
“This demoniac says that for him traditions have no value whatsoever.”
“Oh! I think the same thing,” said Cæsar. “Are you anti-historic?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Absolutely. Tradition has no value for me either.”
“The basis of tradition,” answered the friar, arguing like a man who carries the whole of human knowledge in the pocket of his habit, “is the confidence we all have in the experience of our predecessors. Whether I be a labourer or a pastor, even though I have lived fifty years, I may have great experience about my work and about life, but it will never be so great as the united experience of all those who have preceded me. Can I scorn the accumulation of wisdom that past generations hand down to us?”
“If you wish me to tell you the truth, for me your argument has no weight,” answered Cæsar coldly.
“No?”
“No. It is undeniable that there is a sum of knowledge that comes from father to son, from one labourer to another, and from one pastor to another. But what value have these rudimentary, vague experiences, compared to the united experience of all the men of science there have been in the world? It is as if you told me that the stock of knowledge of a quack was greater and better than that of a wise physician.”