The Shadow of Great Britain

The name Arthur Hastings can be seen in almost all of London’s best-selling popular science books at present.

"The Pulse of the Earth: Beagle and South America," co-authored by Arthur and Darwin, is a popular adaptation of "Beagle Voyage Diary." Using a third-person narrative style, it transforms Darwin’s geological and biological observations into easily understood scientific explanations.

The London Review calls it "prose that lets scientific phenomena speak."

The Times’ book review also states: "For the first time, this book makes science feel like a novel with a storyline."

Moreover, the London Geology Society recommended it as a must-read for young readers as an introduction to geology.

Arthur’s co-authored work with the University of London medical doctor John Snow, "Airborne Plague: Cholera Statistics," uses examples from London’s and Liverpool’s cholera epidemics, combining complex medical data with social observation, using sequential charts, district maps, and municipal records to speculate on the transmission mechanism of cholera.

Although this book has sparked widespread controversy in the medical community, with supporters and opponents evenly divided.

This does not prevent the Royal College of Physicians from inviting Sir Arthur Hastings, Secretary-General of Police Commissioner Committee, to present a public report on "Public Health and Police Cooperation," which is regarded by many as a milestone event in Britain’s public health advocacy.

As for Arthur’s edited and organized "Royal Society’s Annual Christmas Lectures Collection" for Michael Faraday, although at Faraday’s own request, the book’s selling price is almost at cost, and not only doesn’t make a profit, it even includes promotional costs. However, this book is one of London’s best-selling popular science books at present, even praised as the "Divine Comedy in the field of natural philosophy."

On a certain level, the publication of this book helped Sir Arthur and Imperial Publishing gain sufficient social prestige and established its position in the popular science field, standing toe to toe with Chambers Brothers’ affordable popular science book "National Encyclopedia."

Albert listened quietly to the introduction and was so shocked he couldn’t speak.

He had initially thought Imperial Publishing was just another noble-like high-culture salon like many of Paris’s publishers, a private club founded by Sir Arthur Hastings out of leisure.

However, it now seems that the "Empire" in Imperial Publishing is no mere honorary title.

The lineup of Imperial Publishing’s publications is simply a small-scale history of British civilization.

Not only are poets, novelists, playwrights, scientists, politicians included, even doctors and sailors are under its umbrella.

Only now did Albert finally understand why his uncle Leopold said those words to him in Brussels.

"Whoever decides which books should be printed, whoever decides what newspapers should report, they can decide people’s thoughts. Politically, Britain’s sovereignty belongs to the voters. But spiritually, Britain’s sovereignty belongs to the printing press."

Thomas Barnes merely held possession of the massively circulated The Times, and many believed he could decide the direction of elections, while Barnes himself was even called "the most powerful person in Britain today" by Viscount Palmerston.

If The Times has such influence, how about Imperial Publishing?

Though Imperial Publishing’s print volume may not be as large as that of a daily newspaper like The Times, from Albert’s current observations, Imperial Publishing’s penetration is far deeper than any newspaper.

If The Times decides "what should be discussed today," then Imperial Publishing decides "what people should believe tomorrow."

Thomas Barnes influences the next election, but Sir Arthur Hastings influences every future election because Imperial Publishing shapes the worldview of generations.

Albert remained silent, slightly raised his head, and failed to conceal his expression.

His mouth stiffened, seemingly attempting a polite smile but failing.

Arthur, introducing sample books to Albert, noticed the slight change in expression and couldn’t help but put down his files, asking with concern: "Are you feeling uncomfortable? The air in here might be a bit stuffy, shall I get someone to open the window?"

"Oh, no, no need. I guess I was too tired last night; I’m not quite used to British all-night social balls. You probably don’t know, I usually don’t stay up late."

Arthur chuckled, walking closer, casually opening a window: "Indeed, it’s not easy to get used to, don’t know why, but London’s and Paris’s social atmospheres are different from elsewhere; gentlemen and ladies of those two cities seem to not need sleep."

"They’re not sleepless," said Disraeli with a yawn, "they just wake up late. If you start your day at eleven or twelve o’clock, you’re sure to be energetic at night. If Eld hadn’t come looking for me, I’d certainly be sleeping until one o’clock in the afternoon today."

Eld took out his pocket watch, silver-bordered and with an indescribable image inside, snapped it open.

The hand on the dial pointed steadily at a quarter past one.

He shook the watch, looked at everyone, and said lightly, "My God! It’s almost lunchtime! Would you like to join me at Green Restaurant for a meal? I’ve heard they’ve recently changed chefs; their signature dish is crispy on the outside and tender on the inside beef ribs. I went with colleagues from the Navy Department recently, and the taste was quite good."

As Eld finished speaking, the room fell silent for a moment.

Disraeli’s mouth twitched, Tennyson lowered his head, and Dickens kept signaling to Eld.

They all knew who Albert was, knew the graceful young man is not simply "Arthur’s Coburg friend," yet Eld was the only one unaware of the atmosphere, inviting a prince for beef ribs without psychological burden.

Arthur noticed and was about to smooth over the situation, but Albert’s reaction was faster than everyone’s.

"Really?" Albert’s eyes lit up, and he immediately stood up from the table: "That’s wonderful, I’m quite hungry. Since arriving in London, I haven’t had lunch in a proper British restaurant."

While speaking, he gently pushed the chair back to place: "Though I forgot to bring money today, could you lend me some?"

Upon hearing this, Disraeli instinctively retrieved his wallet from his coat, this debt-riddled Lower House Member almost with firefighting speed took out some gold pounds: "Of course, of course! Take your time using them, no rush to repay, Your Hi-..."

The words "Your Highness" were just about to slip out.

Tennyson immediately coughed, and Dickens’ shoe tip kicked Disraeli under the table.

Just when the atmosphere was on the verge of complete breakdown, Eld burst into laughter, promptly took action ahead of everyone, and put his arm around Albert’s shoulder.

"What lending or borrowing!" he said heartily, his tone as bold as a sailor just off the ship: "Today, it’s on me! I just got my first paycheck from last week’s new book release; though not much, it’s enough for a table full of beef ribs and two bottles of excellent Bordeaux."

This Navy Department Hydrographic Office dignitary spoke while patting Albert’s back, causing Disraeli’s heart to leap to his throat.

But Albert didn’t get angry.

He paused for a moment, then smiled: "Thank you, I haven’t quite caught your name yet."

"Me?" Eld laughed heartily, pointing to the sample on the table: "You’ve just spent so long chatting with Arthur, saying how much you love Eld Carter’s books, and now I’m standing right in front of you, but you don’t recognize me?"