Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 209 We, your subjects, are ready to fight to the death...

The Christmas holidays ended on January 7, and Sorbonne University reopened the following day.

The winter wind couldn't dispel the lively atmosphere at the entrance of the Sorbonne Faculty of Arts.

Lionel Sorel was stunned by the sight before him as he stepped off the carriage.

Dozens of students gathered at the entrance, and as soon as they saw him, they spontaneously clapped and their faces beamed with enthusiastic smiles.

Good morning, Lionel!

"The Choir performance was absolutely fantastic!"

"You are the pride of the Sorbonne!"

……

Greetings rose and fell, as if welcoming a triumphant hero.

Everyone wanted to shake his hand or gently pat him on the shoulder.

Soon, a familiar figure walked through the crowd, arms outstretched, toward him—it was Principal Henry Patan.

Principal Patan's voice boomed: "Ah! Our young Orpheus! You've finally returned!"

Then he gave Lionel a firm hug: "The Chorus has conquered Paris, my child!"
I took my whole family to see it, and my youngest daughter cried so much she soaked two handkerchiefs!

The applause and laughter around them grew even louder.

Principal Patan put his arm around Lionel's shoulder affectionately and whispered, "Well done, Lionel. Not just for art, but for reason."

All of Paris is talking about education, about children! Keep it up, the Sorbonne is proud of you!

As he walked into the college, people nodded and greeted him along the way.

Upon entering the classroom, Albert placed a stack of newspapers directly in front of Lionel.

The culture section of Le Figaro called the song "Night" from the film "The Chorus" "the most moving sound in Paris this year"; while the closing song "Looking Towards Your Path" is "a song that every Frenchman should learn".

Le Petit Parisien published a lengthy article on its front page entitled "Lional Sorel, a good friend of French children".

The article provides a detailed review of Lionel's works, noting that his works often take place from a child's perspective or are filled with deep sympathy for the fate of children, and that "The Choir" brings this concern to a climax.

The article concludes with:

Mr. Sorel used his pen to give a voice to the children of our time, revealing the world they live in and placing boundless hope in them.

He was not only an outstanding storyteller, but also a caretaker and shaper of the souls of France's future citizens.

Albert excitedly told Lionel, "Minister Ferry watched the final performance of the 'Choir' Christmas season on the evening of January 4th from our box!"

Do you know what he said to my father? 'Thank you for discovering such a young warrior for the Republic!'

He added, 'This play is the perfect weapon to crush those die-hards who oppose the secularization of education!'

"Haha, Leon! This is Minister Ferry! Everyone says he's destined to be prime minister!"

Upon hearing this, Lionel keenly noticed something: "The parliament has resumed its work today? What bill is being discussed today?"

Albert paused for a moment before replying, "Minister Ferry wants to completely expel the Church from French education, and may even dissolve the Jesuits..."

------

On the left bank of the Seine, directly opposite Place de la Concorde, lies the Palais Bourbon and the French Chamber of Deputies.

Jules Ferry stood on the podium, each word like the sound of a hammer: "Gentlemen! The Republic cannot, and will never, entrust the minds of the next generation to a religious order that is loyal to foreign powers and openly declares its hostility to republican principles—the Jesuits!"
Education must be national education, secular education, education that cultivates free citizens and strengthens republican beliefs!

Before he finished speaking, an uproar erupted in the conservative seats.

The fifth Duke of Broy, Albert de Broy, suddenly stood up, his face flushed with anger: "Minister Ferry! You are committing blasphemy! You are destroying the moral foundation of France!"
Education without religion is merely a soulless shell! The secular schools you speak of will cultivate fearless, faithless nihilists—a ticking time bomb for society!

Albert de Mantang followed closely, pointing to the religious murals on the ceiling: "Look above us! The history of France is inextricably linked to faith! You want to completely expel God from the campus? What a crazy idea! You are severing the roots of our nation with your own hands!" The pro-church members of parliament clapped, stomped their feet, and loudly echoed him, some even excitedly making the sign of the cross.

The Republicans were not to be outdone, with figures like Paul Bell taking the stage one by one to fiercely criticize the church's monopoly on educational resources and its suppression of the scientific spirit.

Although Speaker of the House Leon Gambitta has not yet spoken, his shadow looms over the entire parliament.

The debate turned into an argument, and the argument nearly escalated into insults...

When order began to spiral out of control, Gan Bida was forced to repeatedly strike his gavel as a warning to both sides.

The atmosphere in the House of Representatives was so tense that it felt like a single spark could ignite a firestorm.

Just as the two sides were deadlocked, Jules Ferry once again asked to speak.

He walked slowly onto the podium, his face revealing neither joy nor anger, and he held no notes, as if he were just about to say a few words on the spot.

His voice was calm, yet it resonated throughout the hall: "Gentlemen, the focus of our debate seems to lie in one point—"

Without religious constraints, can our schools still cultivate moral, emotional, and compassionate citizens who understand love and kindness?

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the arrogant conservative members of parliament below the stage.

"I have many theories and cases to cite on this. But today, I want to try a different approach."

I would like to ask you all to recall this, or, if you haven't had the chance yet, I urge you to make sure to take the time to look at it—

The play currently playing at the Comédie-Française, *The Chorus*.

A slight commotion and puzzled whispers arose in the hall.

How did the discussion about national education policies suddenly turn into drama?
Ferry ignored him: "In that play, there was also a 'school,' a reformatory run by church personnel."

The abbot there, a priest, firmly believed that only the strictest discipline and the harshest punishments could save those 'lost sheep'.

He forbade all 'useless' emotions and rejected all 'weak' arts, such as music.

Some conservative MPs seemed to know what Jules Ferry was going to say and began to panic—they tried to make noise to stop Ferry’s argument, but were stopped by the stern look of Speaker Gambitta.

Jules Ferry on stage quickly changed the subject: "An ordinary, even somewhat unsuccessful, secular music teacher went there."

He did not rely on any doctrines, nor did he use any corporal punishment.

He simply believed in beauty, in music, and in the deep longing for light within children's hearts.

He formed a choir, and what was the result? — Cold discipline failed, but worldly music and the teacher's love succeeded!
Those children who were considered hopeless have had their eyes shine again, and their hearts have felt warmth and dignity!

Gentlemen, this is what "The Choir" tells us—the source of morality lies not in the fear of hell, but in the pursuit of the beauty of humanity!
It exists in a beautiful song, in the encouragement of a kind teacher, and in the rationality and fraternity that the Republic advocates!

Jules Ferry stared intently at the conservative members of parliament: "So, gentlemen who oppose the secularization of education, how can you so firmly assert that only the Church can hold the key to moral education?"

For a moment, the conservative camp, which had been so aggressive just moments before, fell into a brief, awkward silence.

Several councilors opened their mouths, but for a moment they couldn't find the right words to refute them.

They couldn't say something like, "It was just a fictional play"—because this was France, where art transcended reality!
To deny the power of art is tantamount to making an enemy of the entire cultural elite.

Besides, they had witnessed the spectacular performance of "The Choir"—no one would be foolish enough to deny the beauty of the play and the moving music.

Finally, Jules Ferry delivered the decisive blow: "Don't forget, at the premiere of 'The Choir,' who received the loudest applause from the audience!"

As soon as the words were spoken, everyone subconsciously looked at an empty high seat next to Speaker Gan Bida, the seat reserved for the highest religious representative.

Archbishop Louis-Antoine-Augustan Gibbon of the Paris Diocese was originally supposed to be sitting there.

However, the day before Parliament opened, he declined to attend the discussion of the bill, citing illness.

Duke de Broglie, his face ashen, slumped back into his seat.

(End of this chapter)