The Shadow of Great Britain

441: Chapter 247: The Cornered Beast Fights Back (4K4) 441: Chapter 247: The Cornered Beast Fights Back (4K4) “Hmm…”

Arthur heard Gladstone actually ask such a question, and for a moment, he didn’t quite know what to say.

Perhaps it was because he had received his education at the University of London that, during his university years, Arthur often attended the public lectures held by Mr.

Bentham.

As a genuine Oxford University graduate, Bentham not only discussed his specialized field of jurisprudence in his lectures but also, being a candid and somewhat eccentric old maverick, frequently delivered unsparing criticisms of his alma mater.

It was from Bentham’s words that Arthur had formed his basic impression of Oxford education in this era.

As one of the two oldest universities in Britain, Oxford University maintained a strong aristocratic and religious character, much like all European church universities, placing considerable importance on classical literature education, or more precisely, on Ancient Greek and Roman classical literature.

As for English literature, native to Britain, it was naturally considered the literature of the poor and not included in their curriculum.

Besides, as a university established by priests, Oxford and Cambridge retained many old and rigid customs.

For example, every incoming student had to sign the “Thirty-Nine Articles” affirming their faith in the national church, or they would not be allowed to enroll.

Though this ritual, which had carried on to the present day, had become more and more a formality and lost much significance, similarly doctrinaire and nearly rigid rules, along with the stiff and formal hierarchical relationships within the schools, bred numerous deplorable customs.

Professors bossed students around, upper-classmen bullied lower-classmen, and under the pressure of substantial familial wealth, Oxford’s campus developed rampant alcoholism, addiction to prostitution, and a prevailing atmosphere of violence.

In Bentham’s mouth, there were only four kinds of students produced by Oxford.

The first kind was rebels like himself who stubbornly refused to assimilate and persevered to the end.

Although these individuals graduated from Oxford, they took it as a shame, and apart from some knowledge, Oxford’s education instilled in them an infinite spirit of resistance.

The second kind were fellows like Lord Byron, who, despite their rebellious spirit and disdain for Oxford, were still tainted by its corrupt influence during their long studies there.

Different from ordinary Oxford men, they disdained to conceal their conduct, denouncing Oxford’s education philosophy’s hypocrisy through their actions.

The string of outrageous tabloids about Lord Byron and the breakage of numerous ladies’ hearts were testament to the lifestyle of the 19th-century British playboy.

The third kind was the norm for most Oxford graduates who seemed to have embraced Oxford’s ideals, and nobody was louder than them when reciting the “Thirty-Nine Articles.”

In public, these exemplary Oxford students appeared to be the epitome of propriety, as if no one in the world could be more upright and brilliant than they.

But when night fell, the rowdy pubs of Oxford town and the thriving prostitution industry spoke volumes about what they really thought.

Perhaps in private, without any witnesses, they played even more flamboyantly than Lord Byron, they just didn’t talk about it.

And eventually, they would carry these habits into the various industries their families were involved in, as well as into Parliament, which was crowded with graduates from Oxford and Cambridge.

As for the fourth kind, according to Mr.

Bentham, these people could be called the world’s most naïve fools.

They were truly deceived by the various maxims, regulations, and so-called ancient traditions of Oxford.

They were the most respectful, devout believers, as well as the most studious and aspiring students.

They withstood the test of Oxford’s adverse customs.

They were the lotus flowers that grew out of the mud without being dirtied and washed clean without seducing.

However, Bentham regretfully stated that at least during his time at Oxford, he had never seen this fourth kind of person, who existed only in his imagination.

Perhaps influenced by Bentham, when Arthur first heard about Gladstone’s reputation, he couldn’t help but doubt whether this boy was really as flawless as the rumors suggested.

But then he thought that even the University of London could give birth to a peculiar character like Eld, so it didn’t seem like such a small probability for Oxford to occasionally recruit a madman.

Moreover, Oxford had already trained a peculiar individual like Priest Newman, so it wasn’t strange to have another upright Mr.

Gladstone.

Arthur looked at Gladstone’s expression, but after a while, he could not detect the slightest hint of deception in the other’s microexpressions.

Since the other party genuinely didn’t understand, Arthur could only patiently explain to him, after all, the most important task for Scotland Yard today was to cater to these devout gentlemen who had come for moral guidance.

Although Chief Inspector Rowan hadn’t assigned him to receive guests, since someone had come to him, Arthur didn’t mind providing a few high-quality services himself.

Arthur began, “The so-called ‘undercover prostitutes’ refer to those who work neither in fixed locations nor openly solicit customers.

This includes mistresses who are kept long-term and also those women who do not make it their permanent livelihood but occasionally engage in the trade.

These ladies dress no differently from ordinary women; they may even be married, with their own jobs, husbands, and children.”