The Shadow of Great Britain

537: Chapter 279 The Power Lust of Scotland Yard 537: Chapter 279 The Power Lust of Scotland Yard Arthur, upon hearing Chadwick’s question, simply shook his head.

“You also know that the so-called tradition of liberty has been held in the highest regard by Britain ever since the signing of the ‘Great Charter’ and that the strengthening of this tradition is currently the mainstream public opinion.

To pass the ‘Parliamentary Reform Bill,’ the Prime Minister has just recently persuaded His Majesty the King to reorganize Parliament.

Those newly elected members of Parliament are very clear about why they can sit on the green leather chairs of Westminster Palace.

We may persuade some of them to change their stance, but we can’t reverse the current political climate, for that would be acting directly against the Prime Minister, and the members, especially those from the Whig Party, aren’t foolish enough to do such a thing.”

Although Chadwick had known early on that this was an unsolvable problem, having it confirmed by someone else’s words still dealt him a minor mental blow.

His complexion changed uncertainly as he paced back and forth and leaned against the wall, appearing to ponder something.

Seeing this, Arthur was about to take out the document that had recently arrived from Paris from the small bag he carried, but before he could pull out the document, the seductive voice of the Red Devil reached his ears.

“Arthur, why bother?

Why are you putting so much effort into this matter?

Unless they hit their heads and bleed, they will never consider changing their own biases.

Such is mankind; the only lesson mankind learns from history is that mankind doesn’t learn from history.

Therefore, history often astonishingly repeats itself.”

Arthur took out his pipe and put it in his mouth.

As he was lighting it, he asked, “Agares, do you know I detest Hegel, so you purposely quote him to irritate me?

Or is this just an inconsequential mistake of a learned devil?”

“Oh…” Agares covered his mouth and chuckled: “Arthur, sorry, did I make you unhappy?”

Arthur discarded his match, took a puff of smoke, and said,

“No.

If we are merely speaking about those few sentences you’ve uttered, Hegel is right.

But if I do not resist, it won’t be long before I too become part of history.

Hating Hegel doesn’t mean I oppose all his theories; I simply detest the man himself.”

Furthermore, using one of Hegel’s other assertions as a rebuttal to his own words: ‘It is only those who never gaze up at the sky while lying in a pit, who won’t fall into it again.’ Mistakes are a necessary part of attaining truth, and it is through these mistakes that truth is revealed.

Thus, those who have never seen ugliness will never understand what beauty is.”

Hearing this, the Red Devil’s torn mouth almost reached his ears, and a metallic, grinding noise escaped the cracks between his sharp teeth: “Oh?

The thinker of grand thoughts must tread a grand illusion?

Arthur, I never expected you to be a proponent of such theories.”

“Many have walked astray, but their missteps are not necessarily grand.

No one knows right from wrong until the curtain of ignorance is lifted from all faces.

The cognitive abilities of human beings cannot surpass the scope of their own experiences or perceptions; hence, they cannot comprehend the essence and the laws of development of things.

This is precisely why humans cannot learn from history, because everybody only realizes after receiving a painful lesson that their existence, decades of life, ultimately amounts to just a plus one in historical statistics.

Or maybe a plus two or minus three.

In short, differences indeed do arise from different statistical measures.”

The Red Devil, resting his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, laughed heartily: “Like Scotland Yard tallying the prostitutes of London?”

“They are nightingales, or you may call them lost lambs if you prefer.”

Arthur gave him a side glance as he took another drag of his smoke: “Agares, if you were a London tough, just for that remark earlier, I would already have the grounds to send you to prison for six hours a day on the treadmill.

Have you ever seen the wheel of a mill’s waterwheel?

The treadmill is pretty much constructed the same way.

But I think Sir William Cubitt only using it in prisons shows a lack of business sense.

He should buy a shop and charge customers two shillings a month for the use of the treadmill; he would become rich in no time.

At the very least, I believe Alexander would certainly have a demand for it—being smaller in stature would also be an advantage for him in a duel.”

“Alexander?” The Red Devil covered his mouth in mockery: “Arthur, you still remember your fat friend!

But I think he won’t be needing the treadmill to lose weight.”

Arthur was taken aback by these words and suddenly asked, “Where is he now?”

“Where else could he be?

He’s obviously in quarantine at the hospital.”

Agares said leisurely while clipping his nails, “Just as you saw before, he and that sensitive, irritable German lad encountered a patient who fell ill during the play.

So to be safe, all guests of the theater were crammed into the hospital for quarantine observation.

If he’s lucky, he should be out in ten days.

But if he’s not so lucky…”

At this point, Agares paused, and his smile was full of malice: “Then you better be ready to collect their corpses.

Don’t blame me for not reminding you, cholera is one of Baal’s ace hitters, and contracting this disease can claim your life in just a few hours.

The fat man’s death might be considered a release, but for you, Arthur, I can only reiterate, there’s no such thing as death canceling debts here with the Devil!”