Mr. Cobbett spoke frankly: The poor endure periodic famine just to line the pockets of landlords! In my view, the real aim of the new English Poor Laws is to reduce the living standards of the English to Irish conditions, where they can survive on potatoes.
You see, Mr. Cobbett is already a renowned progressive in Britain, once imprisoned for two years for slander and exiled to the United States due to political persecution at ho.
Yet, even such a man, in his speech, can’t help but unconsciously convey disdain for the Irish.
The interests of the Irish are hardly cared for, let alone the slaves.
In short, simply categorizing a person’s political inclination as liberal or conservative is indeed a bit simplistic.
It’s just like how both Disraeli and Gladstone opposed the abolition of slavery, but their reasons differed greatly.
Just as Dickens was about to continue speaking, Disraeli interrupted him by raising his hand.
"You keep using the abolition bill as a guise." Disraeli was irked by Dickens’ favoritism towards the Whig Party: "When it cos to bills truly in favor of workers, you fail to ntion us Tories."
"What do you an?" Dickens furrowed his brow: "Are you talking about the new Factory Law?"
"Exactly!" Disraeli nodded unapologetically, "The 1833 Factory Law, which limited daily child labor to no more than twelve hours, prohibited employing children under nine, and required factories to establish an inspector system. Although the initial draft was proposed by the Whig Party, do you know who first stood up in support of it?"
"Sir Edward Dumore of the Whig Party." Dickens blurted out.
Disraeli sneered: "Sir Dumore? His notions weren’t even as clear as the Priest of Blackburn Parish! Who actually brought the bill to reality? It was Sir Robert Peel! It was the Tories! Not only did he vote in favor, but he also first implented it in his Manchester factory. Check the records at the ti, the proportion of Tories supporting the bill in the Lower House far exceeded those Whig MPs still contemplating how to placate the unions."
Dickens’ eyebrows twitched: "Peel is a paradox; his father was a cotton industry giant, and he himself is often criticized for his lack of empathy towards laborers, yet you now want to call him a Friend of Workers?"
Disraeli said sarcastically: "Arthur is also a paradox; he’s a cop from Scotland Yard, criticized by Fleet Street for firing at protesters on the eve of parliantary reform, yet you now want to call him a true friend?"
Arthur nearly choked on his tea at this, putting down his cup and said: "Gentlen, I didn’t provoke you today, did I?"
Disraeli snorted, crossed his legs, and continued unsatisfied: "You should ask Charles; he started this. I can’t stand those fools who cheer for the Whig Party. Isn’t dissolving Parliant great? Seeing the Whig Party out is even more satisfying than being elected!"
As soon as Disraeli finished speaking, applause erupted from the corner of the room.
Heine, who seed to revel in chaos, stood up and clapped: "Bravo! Mr. Disraeli, you indeed should rejoice over the dissolution of Parliant. Because if this continues, the British Parliant would beco the farce you most enjoy, where you always manage to play the lead role."
Disraeli put on a smile that didn’t reach his eyes; if he weren’t feeling unwell today, he would’ve already lunged with a punch: "What’s it to you? What do you know about politics?"
"Of course, I don’t understand politics." Heine’s tone suddenly beca extrely sincere: "Because I naively thought politics was about getting children to school, ensuring the poor don’t go hungry, and letting won light a furnace in winter. Yet you tell politics is about letting Robert Peel speak for child labor and then turning to shake hands with slave masters. Who are you serving this stale leftovers to?"
Disraeli retorted: "Stale leftovers, yes, but at least we served them on a platter. Unlike you, Heinrich, who curses German princely nobles while living in London under French Governnt’s funding, staying in hotels, drinking port wine, wearing cashre coats, flirting with girls from all over Europe, only to show off in the newspapers, claiming: See, I’m the true Friend of the People!"
Heine, incensed by these words, slamd the table as his wine glass toppled with a clatter.
"What did you say?!" He stepped forward aggressively, pointing at Disraeli’s nose: "You politician who built a reputation in the Lower House with just words!"
"Co at then!" Disraeli took off his jacket: "Soone who speaks tough but acts weak, do you think us Sephardi Jews are spineless like your Ashkenazi Jews?"
Seeing they were about to fight again, Great Dumas stepped forward and skillfully diated: "Alright, alright, gentlen, gentlen... If you truly want to fight here tonight, I suggest moving to the dressing room backstage, where the script can pad your fists, the curtain can wipe blood, and the makeup mirror can reflect your current ugly selves."
"Hmph!"
"Hmph!!"
With a twist of his head, Heine turned away; Disraeli gritted his teeth and sat down, both like defeated roosters, unwilling to et each other’s eyes, taking advantage of Great Dumas’ platform to relent.
After a brief silence, Dickens spoke softly: "Well, at least we’ve reached a consensus regarding the King dissolving Parliant—we’re all opposed to each other. So, Arthur, which side are you on?"
Arthur leisurely scooped sugar into his teacup, eyeing everyone: "You want my opinion? I’m just a dismissed Civil Servant."
Heine subtly mocked Disraeli: "Perhaps soon you won’t be. Just like how soone is about to lose their golden bowl as a Lower House mber."
Disraeli chid in: "You’d better go back to Scotland Yard; preferably lock up this German spy taking French Governnt money by tomorrow afternoon."
Great Dumas looked at Disraeli, laughing heartily: "Benjamin, you say that as if you’ve beco the Ho Secretary."
Disraeli snorted: "Who knows? Anyway, in this election, we’ll definitely win by a landslide. After parliantary reforms, workers feel deceived, and countless protests against the new English Poor Laws have been organized by unions. If, under such circumstances, we cannot secure the majority seats in the Lower House, then I’d..."
Listening to this, Arthur inconveniently poured cold water over him: "The problem is, do workers have the right to vote?"
Disraeli first froze, then suddenly awoke as if from a dream, slapping his forehead: "This... After the news of dissolving Parliant ca out, I was so busy rejoicing that I ended up forgetting..."
Arthur shrugged: "So, how can you be so certain the election result will be favorable to the Tory Party? Though the lower classes indeed are unsatisfied with the Whig Party’s rule over the past two years, the cheers from the middle classes are endless. I don’t believe another election will secure your position unless His Majesty the King really loses his mind—not just dissolving Parliant but instigating a military coup."
Disraeli turned pale upon hearing these words.
Although a military coup wasn’t impossible, with the Army under Tory control, the Royal Navy supported the Whig Party!
In that case, wouldn’t it an civil war?
Although Disraeli was displeased with the Whig Party, civil war seed too extre.
With this thought, his heated brain cooled down.
Seeing him finally calm, Arthur asked: "By the way, haven’t you, the one closest to the truth, explained what actually happened in Parliant today?"
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