## Chapter 132: The Art of Language
The morning sun streamed through the windows of 36 Lancaster Gate.
Arthur, with a cup of tea in hand, leaned back in his chair, leisurely reading the newspaper. It was Sunday, a day for rest, one of the perks of being promoted to Inspector.
Usually, at this time, he would be patrolling the streets of Greenwich or napping in his office at Scotland Yard. But today, he finally had time to handle some personal affairs.
His eyes scanned the headlines of the *Times*.
“Whigs Again Propose Parliamentary Reform in the House of Commons, Attempting to Drag the Nation Towards the Abyss of Division.”
“Sir Peel Makes a Powerful Defence for the Tories: Reform is to Shake the Political Foundation of Britain, We Cannot Repeat the Mistakes of the French Revolution.”
Quickly, he flipped to the *Poor Man’s Political Monthly* behind it. It covered the same event, but this time the headline was: “Robert Peel Defends His Stubborn Conservative Position: Strongly Condemns Whigs for Increasing the Cost of Bribery and Ruining the Rules of the Game.”
Arthur shook his head.
The Red Devil’s voice echoed softly.
“Arthur, have you noticed? The art of ruling, like a lawyer’s argument, relies heavily on the ability to choose words. Select the right words, add a touch of hyperbole, repeat them constantly, state them with conviction, and never attempt to prove anything through logic. Then you can easily persuade the public. Words are powerful. Choose them carefully, and you can give the most repugnant things a good name, making them acceptable to everyone.”
Arthur took a sip of tea and said calmly, “I have to admit, you might be right about that. Often, the public’s hostility towards us is simply because we’re called police.
They don’t know us, they haven’t interacted with us, but just seeing our uniforms, they can’t wait to start provoking us. This happens most frequently in the East End of London.
I don’t know if I’ve told you, but the Irish poor living there even consider attacking police officers a way to prove their courage. Heaven knows what’s going on in their heads.”
The Red Devil shrugged with a sneer, “Maybe they’ve been eating too many potatoes.”
Arthur set down the newspaper and sighed. “But whatever the case, the Duke of Wellington’s cabinet is on the verge of collapse. Mr. Huskisson was killed by a train, so the Tories’ alliance with the Huskisson faction fell apart.
Wellington’s cabinet has lost its absolute majority in the House of Commons, so now they can hardly propose any bills. Although they still have a firm hold on the House of Lords, the Lords only have the power to veto or pass bills passed by the House of Commons.
So, the entire parliamentary system in Great Britain is practically paralyzed. The Whigs and the Tories can’t get anything done, except for shouting matches in Parliament. They can’t do anything about legislation.”
Agareus flipped through the newspaper in front of Arthur. The Red Devil said, “The general election is coming up in late October this year. Judging by the current situation, the Tories are doomed. And not just a defeat, but a Waterloo-level disaster.
Wellington and Robert Peel will likely be in opposition for a long time. Arthur, you might want to consider finding a way out. Should we go see the Duke of Sussex during this time?
After all, Commissioner Rowan and some of your colleagues at Scotland Yard have quite a bit of animosity towards your rapid promotion!”
Arthur rubbed his temples and pointed to the news headline.
“I can’t say you’re wrong, but not now. Look at this, the Belgians in Brussels have revolted. Priests, merchants, workers, and farmers are all dissatisfied with the rule of the Dutch Protestants over Belgium. This is the ripple effect of the French Revolution.
Fortunately, the *Catholic Emancipation Act* was successfully passed earlier, otherwise the Irish would definitely have followed their example and given Britain a fatal blow. But now it seems that even if the Irish don’t follow suit, the July Revolution in France has created a restless atmosphere in Europe.
During this time, socially unstable elements may emerge, as they have all been waiting for a long time to see this spark. Maybe I should seriously consider your earlier suggestion and ask Sir Peel to allow us police to change our name. It’s too dangerous to monitor restless elements under this title.
On the one hand, we must be careful not to provoke them. On the other hand, I’m also responsible for the safety of my subordinates. Everyone comes to Scotland Yard to make a living, not to die.”
The Red Devil narrowed his eyes and asked, “You want to change the name of Scotland Yard?”
Arthur shook his head. “If everyone at Scotland Yard changes their name, then it defeats the purpose of changing the name. Besides, you just mentioned a very important point. There are quite a few middle and upper-level officials at Scotland Yard who are hostile towards me. I don’t want them to think I’m interfering in their jurisdiction. So, changing the name should start with my own jurisdiction.
If Sir Peel allows it, we should try to set up a separate department this time. Although the department’s funding will still come from local security fees, I hope it will be directly under the Home Office.
Agareus, you were right before, but not entirely. It doesn’t really matter to me whether it’s the Whigs or the Tories in power. Neither party has a strong animosity towards me. If I can’t stay here, it’ll most likely be because of something within Scotland Yard.”
“Oh! My dear Arthur. You know what I like most about you?”
The Red Devil chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “You always learn things quickly. I just gave you a little reminder about the use of the art of language, and you were able to extrapolate so much from that foundation so quickly. Just tell Sir Peel that you want to establish a new department directly under the Home Office to better monitor potential unrest.
As for me, you just want to create a new department under the Home Office, you little rascal, so you can find a way out, right? Your suggestion is reasonable, and with your relationship with Peel, once this new department, independent from Scotland Yard, is established, the position of its first head will be obvious.”
Hearing this, Arthur stretched towards the sunshine outside the window, his hands clasped behind his back. Looking at Dumas, who was happily planting garlic in the garden downstairs, he began to rehearse how to appear as low-key and humble as possible in front of Sir Peel in a few days.
On this matter, he might need some wisdom from his homeland in the East.
Arthur pondered and tasted the words, murmuring to himself.
“I’m not being humble. How did I, a Scotland Yard Inspector, end up in a new department under the Home Office…”
(To be continued)