The Shadow of Great Britain-Chapter 936 - 33 Welcome Contributions_2

The curse of Louis XVIII indeed came true, as revolution erupted in Paris in July 1830, leading to Charles X’s abdication and exile to Britain with his family.

However, at least until 1830, he enjoyed several comfortable years as an absolute monarch.

For Gizo, the years from 1820 to 1830 were his most challenging decade.

He returned to academia, immersing himself in scholarly pursuits, promoting his ideas to students and the broader society, and published numerous historical works.

"The Origin of European Parliamentary Systems," "Introduction to French History," "Memoirs on the English Revolution," "History of the 17th Century English Revolution" were all works of this period, and merely from Gizo’s choice of topics, one can discern what he aimed to convey.

Everyone knew he was a dissenter against the current government, but Gizo never advocated using violence to overthrow it; he steadfastly held the view that lawful struggle was the best path to solve problems.

The government’s response to Gizo’s views was to cancel all his courses at Sorbonne University.

However, this was not the most tormenting issue for Gizo; his greatest anguish came when Louis XVIII passed away, Charles X ascended the throne, banning immigration, and reinstating the death penalty for blasphemers in quick succession.

This led to a significant schism within Parliament, with Romantic Liberals, represented by Chateaubriand, arguing that this was pure historical regression, suppressing freedom and desecrating the idea of human rights, while extremists led by Bourdonne felt that reckoning with the Great Revolution fell far short.

What nearly drove Gizo to the brink of collapse was the death of his wife, the writer Pauline de Moran, who was fourteen years his senior and with whom he had shared a loving relationship for years.

Perhaps to comfort her husband or to ensure he always remembers her, Pauline arranged Gizo’s next marriage on her deathbed, introducing him to her niece, thus personally helping him find new marital bliss.

As Pauline departed, she seemed to take her husband’s bad luck with her.

The repercussions of Charles X’s retrograde actions finally manifested, prompting him to reorganize the Cabinet to stabilize the increasingly turbulent domestic situation, allowing Gizo’s courses at Sorbonne University to resume.

At Sorbonne University, Gizo in history, Cousin in philosophy, and Villemain in literature formed the academic trio of Sorbonne, jointly offering public lectures that attracted thousands of citizens.

Among these citizens were young nobles, middle-class students, lower-class small merchants, soldiers, and even many foreigners.

Hugo, the Great Dumas, Vini, and other Romantic writers frequently came to Sorbonne University to listen to Gizo’s passionate speeches, so to some extent, Gizo had anonymous students across various trades in Paris.

Such public teachings naturally made Gizo’s fame increasingly prominent, establishing him as a leader among the Constitutional Monarchists.

After the July Revolution, once Louis Philippe resolved domestic turmoil, he also sought to revive the middle ground approach of Louis XVIII’s era.

Thus, unsurprisingly, Gizo re-entered the Cabinet in 1832, and this time, he was appointed Minister of Education, taking on the task of national educational reform.

According to Gizo’s current educational reform draft, the reinstated moderate minister proposed the following three points:

First, each commune establishes an elementary school, each city establishes a higher elementary school. The educational funds will be allocated by the national treasury or paid through a specially levied local education tax.

Second, each province establishes a teacher training school, and sets the minimum standard for teacher salaries.

Third, abolish the authority of religious groups and the Church to issue teaching qualifications prior to 1830, with teacher competency standards unified and assessed by government institutions.

Even if one disregards Gizo’s previous decade-long struggle with Charles X’s government, just observing what he is currently doing makes it easy to understand why Hugo would highly praise him.

In the face of power, Gizo did not bow down. And when he awaited his opportunity, he proved himself not just a scholar who talks the talk but a pragmatic minister genuinely seeking to improve the country.

Although Arthur didn’t know what Gizo did in later decades to incur such disdain, at least at this point in time, he undoubtedly shone with the light of idealism as a gentleman.

Especially when Arthur saw various antics from the Parisians literati, he felt even more inclined to applaud the pure love between Gizo and his deceased wife.

Hugo, seeing the surprised look on Arthur’s face, couldn’t help but laugh: "Sir, why are you so surprised? Did someone slander you by saying Mr. Gizo is a difficult person?"

"Oh... that’s not the case," Arthur joked, "but I previously heard someone mention him alongside Metternich, which startled me. I’m not familiar with Mr. Gizo’s character, but I know a bit about Metternich. Do you know Heine? My impressions of Metternich mostly come from him."

Hearing this, Hugo couldn’t help but curse: "Comparing Gizo to Metternich? Only those Orthodox Party’s extreme Royalists could slander him so shamelessly! As for Mr. Heine, of course I know him, we have some acquaintance. He is quite an interesting fellow; using German hemorrhoids and urinary incontinence to describe Metternich couldn’t be more apt."

Arthur let out a hearty laugh, immediately turning the page on this topic: "Alright, I think I have a clear understanding of Mr. Gizo. Do you know Mr. Thiers?"

"Thiers?"

Hugo, upon hearing the name, couldn’t help but show an intriguing expression: "Three years ago, Thiers used to mingle with us in the Parisian literary circle. However, my friendship with him isn’t as deep as before. If you want to learn about him, I suggest you find Honoré; he had a good relationship with Mr. Thiers, but as for now, I’m not sure."

"Honoré?" Arthur asked, "You mean Mr. Balzac?"

Hugo candidly admitted: "Yes, that’s him. By his habit, he might even be in this hotel right now."

Upon hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but exchange a glance with Victor beside him.

The two of them read the same information in each other’s eyes, as detectives’ intuitions often align—apparently, Hugo didn’t only spy on Vini, he even kept tabs on Balzac.

Perhaps he sensed their summons, for suddenly there was a knock on the room door.

Outside the door came Balzac’s lazy voice, judging by his dragged-out tone, he must have just finished a fierce battle and was now stretching.

"Victor, are you in? I have a new manuscript here. Would you like to help me review it?"

Hugo opened the door, revealing the vision of a petite Balzac outside.

Balzac, seeing Hugo, casually waved the manuscript in his hand: "I plan to write Thiers into the book, giving him the alias of Lastinier. If this novel gets published, do you think he might come to trouble me?"

Upon hearing this, Arthur immediately got up and said, "What novel? May I have a look?"

Balzac spotted Arthur and Victor inside the room, and was struck dumb with surprise: "Mr. Victor is here too! Who might this gentleman be?"

Arthur amicably extended his hand, smilingly introducing himself: "Arthur Hastings, a publisher from London. I’m currently in Paris looking for authors who can contribute to our magazine ’British’. Have you considered submitting to our magazine?"

"’British’ publisher?" Balzac’s expression suddenly turned peculiar: "If I recall correctly, ’British’ should be the magazine that published ’The Count of Monte Cristo’, right?"

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