Shadow of great britain

The study is like a corner deep in the years, quiet and melancholy.

Outside the window, the torrential rain was pouring crazily, as if a tragic symphony was playing between heaven and earth. The raindrops rolled up by the strong wind violently hit the window, making waves of wailing, as if the years were beating the last chapter of life.

There was a dim kerosene lamp on the desk. The once hale and hearty old man now looked extremely thin and tired. He was covered with a camel hair blanket, and his whole body seemed to have sunk into the faded leather armchair.

The face carved by time was covered with ravine-like wrinkles, and the deep eyes shone with the glory of the past, but also revealed a weakness that was difficult to conceal. Those hands, the pen that had drafted countless legal lectures and political programs, could only rest weakly on his knees. The skin was loose and the veins were prominent, just like old tree bark after being eroded by wind and rain.

The heavy rain made the study room even quieter. The strong wind seeping through the cracks in the window shook the wick of the kerosene lamp, and the rainwater slid down the window glass like an hourglass passing through life.

The sound of riding boots hitting the ground on the stairs outside the door was steady and powerful, cutting through the roar of the rainstorm, like counting down an hourglass.

Arthur's figure appeared at the door. He was wearing a wet black windbreaker, and raindrops were dripping from the big-brimmed hat on his head. He gently pushed open the half-open door, his eyes instantly fixed on the old man, and the scene seemed to be frozen in time.

He almost didn't recognize the old man in front of him. Obviously just a year ago, his physical condition was not so bad, and he could still write passionately on the "Westminster Review", and in the bright sunshine On Sunday afternoon, you can also take time to give a humorous lecture in the lecture hall of the University of London.

Bentham struggled to raise his drooped eyelids, raised his head slightly and gave Arthur a forced smile: "Arthur, long time no see, you look more mature."

Arthur gently pulled away the chair, leaned forward and held the old man's cold hand, rubbing it gently for a while, but he still couldn't make the old man's body temperature rise much.

He turned his head and ordered to the housekeeper: "Please bring me two more blankets. It's really cold here."

Bentham just smiled softly when he heard this. He shook his head slowly: "No need to trouble Andrew. He has worked hard for me all his life. It's time to let him rest."

When the butler standing outside the door heard this, he suddenly became excited and his gray hair trembled: "Mr. Bentham, don't say that. I feel very honored to be able to serve you. I have no knowledge. I don't know what to do." There are not many big things, but being able to arrange your daily life is all I can do. It's as if...as if I can get some honor out of your greatness."

Bentham couldn't stop shaking his head after hearing this: "Andrew, you underestimate yourself too much. You can obviously have your own career like Mill and Ricardo. Even the youngest Chadwick is now You have become the secretary of the Chancery Hall, you are no worse than them, you just lack the courage to take the crucial step."

Andrew took off his hat and put it on his chest, pretending to smile cheerfully: "Mr. Bentham, an old dog can't learn new tricks. I'm getting older. Now I just want to do the job at hand and help you." Take good care of yourself.”

When Bentham heard this, he smiled gently: "Well, at least in the profession of housekeeper, I can't find anyone who can do a better job than you. Andrew, can you go and pour me and Arthur a cup of tea?"

"As you wish, Mr. Bentham."

Andrew took a deep breath, lowered his head slightly and exited the room.

Bentham heard his footsteps getting farther away, then turned his head to look at Arthur and asked: "This is a very stupid person, isn't he?"

Arthur smiled slightly: "Although I shouldn't have talked back to you during your illness, I don't agree with your point of view, just like I used to argue with you about Kant."

"Oh?" Bentham seemed very interested in this topic, and even the light in his eyes flickered: "What is your opinion?"

Arthur smiled and replied: "Utilitarian principle: Human behavior is entirely motivated by pleasure and pain. If an action helps to enhance happiness, it is correct. If it causes pain, it is wrong. Mr. Andrew believes It is a pleasure to serve you, then that is enough for him.”

Bentham was lying in an armchair, staring at the pouring rain outside the window, and whispered: "But with Andrew's talent, he can obviously make a greater contribution to the collective happiness of society. And I am an old man who is in his dying years. What can he do with me around? This deal is still too loss-making after all."

Arthur said: "You are too pessimistic. You just have some minor illness. Your body will get better soon. By then, you have to do the happiness that Andrew owes to society." Woolen cloth."

When Bentham heard this, he turned his head and stared into Arthur's eyes. He smiled heartily. If his body had not allowed him to do so, he might have laughed out loud at this moment.

"Arthur, are you comforting me?"

"No." Arthur said without changing his expression: "I always tell the truth."

"you are lying."

Bentham exposed Arthur's lies mercilessly, but he didn't seem to blame the young man.

"But I don't blame you. Because you lied to make me feel better and to increase happiness, so I don't think you are wrong. But..."

Bentham paused for a moment, and then continued: "But I understand my body. I feel like I am going to die now. I am too old. I can't walk or eat anything. I am just a body." Still alive, but my soul is about to break free from the shackles of this body."

Arthur was silent for a long time, and he didn't know how to continue.

In the end, he could only turn around and say: "You are joking. If your health is really so bad, why would you announce that you will be closed behind closed doors? You are not that cruel to not let those young people see you for the last time." people."

Bentham had a smile on his lips: "No, Arthur, you don't understand me. I am a true utilitarian. Caring for others means minimizing the pain of others. So, wait until I am about to die. , please promise me not to let the servants come in, and please stop the young people outside. Because when they find that they are powerless in the face of my death, they will feel very uncomfortable. Death is a very painful thing. , I can bear this pain alone."

When Arthur heard this, he couldn't help but feel a little moved. He held Bentham's hand without saying a word, neither agreeing nor rejecting.

After a long time, he asked softly: "Why me? If things really come to that point, I will also feel very uncomfortable."

Bentham patted the back of Arthur's hand apologetically: "I'm very sorry for you, Arthur. If I could, I would do these things alone. But dead people can't do this. And you are the strongest young man I have ever met.

I know that in your heart, you may still have some doubts about me. If the two parties were not locked in a fight and parliamentary reform became the current main focus, the "Anatomy Bill" might have been promoted long ago. Therefore, in order to prove my consistent utilitarian principles and to compensate for your pain, I will dedicate my last bit of value to this society.

I hope that when my body specimens appear at the University of London, the MPs will be touched and you will feel better. "

At this point, Bentham smiled and recited the words that pastors often used when preaching at the end of their lives: "We came into this world naked, and we left this world naked..."

Arthur then read: "Life should be as gorgeous as summer flowers, and death should be as quiet and beautiful as autumn leaves..."

Bentham was stunned when he heard this. He stared at Arthur for a long time, then he squeezed Arthur's hand happily and said: "Arthur, you have become a true utilitarian, and you are also a utilitarian poet. .”

At this point, the old man winked playfully: "My last request is that I hope they can make my body specimen more handsome. It doesn't need to be as quiet and beautiful as autumn leaves, but it needs to look majestic and solemn."

Arthur also smiled and replied: "The last request, please stand firm until the last moment, because there may be a turning point later. At the very least, you should live until the day when the parliamentary reform is successful. After thirty years of hard work, wouldn’t it be a pity if we don’t even see the results?”

Bentham's face seemed to be a little angry, and he responded with a smile: "Your request is too much for a dying old man. However, I owe you this, so I will work hard. "

As soon as Bentham finished speaking, Agares's voice rang in Arthur's ears: "Oh, an outstanding thinker and jurist, his soul is worth a lot of money. And he is also a utilitarian. , since he doesn’t even care if his body is cut into pieces, then he shouldn’t hesitate to ask him to sacrifice his soul, right? Arthur, what do you think?”

Arthur didn't pay attention to the whisper of the red devil. He just pulled up the blanket on Bentham, then stepped back and saluted the old man: "Mr. Bentham, just wait for me here, don't move around. . Soon, I will come back to bear your pain, don’t let me not find you by then.”

When Bentham heard this, he also joked in a low voice: "If I can move around, I will go to you myself. Where will you be then? Scotland Yard, or the Chamber of Westminster?" "

Arthur held the doorknob, lit a match and lit his cigarette, saying: "I don't know, who can predict the future? Maybe when you go to heaven, you can stand on the edge of the cliff and see that I'm down there." "

When Bentham heard this, he pursed his lips and shook his head: "Arthur, you are still young."

"Yes!" Arthur nodded: "As you know, I'm still young."

After saying this, Arthur closed the door and came to the corridor.

Before he went downstairs, he saw the butler Andrew standing at the stairs silently holding a tea cup.

Arthur saw the man's soaked hat and the raindrops on the brim like tears. He just leaned on the armrest and asked, "Did you hear it?"

Andrew nodded with his hands trembling slightly.

Seeing this, Arthur didn't try to dissuade him. Instead, he reached out and patted him on the shoulder: "Mr. Andrew, don't think too badly of things. People always have to move on."

Andrew held back his tears. With the arrogance of a British gentleman, he refused to let the tears fall to the ground: "Mr. Hastings, thank you very much for comforting me. However, you don't seem to be comfortable saying this to me at your age. It’s so appropriate. Because I’m almost old enough to be your father.”

Arthur smiled and responded: "This has nothing to do with age. The Duke of Wellington can be my grandfather, but I said similar things to him a few days ago."

"What did you say to him?"

Arthur took a puff of cigarette and puffed out a burst of smoke: "Sir, I don't want to advise you to retreat, but I want to advise you to move in a different direction."

…

On the leaving carriage, Louis looked at the retreating crowd outside the window, and then at Arthur who was smoking beside him.

He only felt that his commander seemed to have undergone some kind of temperament change compared to an hour ago.

But for the red devil leaning against the car window, it is not so much that Arthur's temperament is changing, but rather that his temperament is returning.

That damn, dazed temperament is quickly returning.

Agares thought that the shooting in Liverpool could sound a warning bell for Arthur, but what the Red Devil did not expect was that the rhythm of the warning bell was not as heavy and dark as he had set in advance.

Agares's eyes widened, he grabbed Arthur's collar and roared: "You little bastard, don't think I don't know what you are thinking! Who do you think you are? You want to do a fucking one-man show! "

The Red Devil and Arthur are caught in a game of war between heaven and man.

But from Louis' perspective, he has no idea what's going on.

All he knew was that the young officer was smoking a dull cigarette.

Perhaps wanting to liven up the atmosphere, Louis suggested: "The mission has been completed successfully. It's still early now. Why don't you go to the editorial office of "The British"? I heard that Alexander's son just arrived some time ago. Let's call Charles and the others." Let’s have lunch together?”

"Nice suggestion."

Arthur put out his pipe and said, "But I think you might be more interested in the recent news in Paris than Alexander's son."

"Paris?"

As Arthur said, as soon as Louis heard about the city, he was immediately attracted: "What's going on there?"

Arthur said: "Alexander's friend in the Paris literary circle specially escorted the mother and son to London. I met him at home last night. According to him, the current political atmosphere in Paris is exactly the same as before the start of the French Revolution.

Neither the Republicans nor the Bonapartists are restless. To make matters worse, in order to calm the situation, the mathematician Mr. Évariste Galois, a fanatical supporter of the Republicans, was ordered to be arrested a while ago. At present, the republicans are actively planning to rescue Galois, and Mr. Vidocq has been having a headache recently. "