Politics in those days were tickle subjects to meddle with, even in the most private company.  The nation was in a state of terror against France, and against any at home who might be supposed to sympathise with the enormities she had just been committing.  The oppressive act against seditious meetings had been passed the year before; and people were doubtful to what extremity of severity it might be construed.  Even the law authorities forgot to be impartial, but either their alarms or their interests made too many of them vehement partisans instead of calm arbiters, and thus destroyed the popular confidence in what should have been considered the supreme tribunal of justice.  Yet for all this, there were some who dared to speak of reform of Parliament, as a preliminary step to fair representation of the people, and to a reduction of the heavy war-taxation that was imminent, if not already imposed.  But these pioneers of 1830 were generally obnoxious.  The great body of the people gloried in being Tories and haters of the French, with whom they were on tenter-hooks to fight, almost unaware of the rising reputation of the young Corsican warrior, whose name would be used ere a dozen years had passed to hush English babies with a terror such as that of Marlborough once had for the French.

At such a place as Monkshaven all these opinions were held in excess.  One or two might, for the mere sake of argument, dispute on certain points of history or government; but they took care to be very sure of their listeners before such arguments touched on anything of the present day; for it had been not unfrequently found that the public duty of prosecuting opinions not your own overrode the private duty of respecting confidence.  Most of the Monkshaven politicians confined themselves, therefore, to such general questions as these:  ’Could an Englishman lick more than four Frenchmen at a time?’ ’What was the proper punishment for members of the Corresponding Society (correspondence with the French directory), hanging and quartering, or burning?’ ’Would the forthcoming child of the Princess of Wales be a boy or a girl?  If a girl, would it be more loyal to call it Charlotte or Elizabeth?’

The Fosters were quite secure enough of their guests this evening to have spoken freely on politics had they been so inclined.  And they did begin on the outrages which had been lately offered to the king in crossing St James’s Park to go and open the House of Lords; but soon, so accustomed were their minds to caution and restraint, the talk dropped down to the high price of provisions.  Bread at 1_s_. 3_d_. the quartern loaf, according to the London test.  Wheat at 120_s_. per quarter, as the home-baking northerners viewed the matter; and then the conversation died away to an ominous silence.  John looked at Jeremiah, as if asking him to begin.  Jeremiah was the host, and had been a married man.  Jeremiah returned the look with the same meaning in it.  John, though a bachelor, was the elder brother.  The great church bell, brought from the Monkshaven monastery centuries ago, high up on the opposite hill-side, began to ring nine o’clock; it was getting late.  Jeremiah began: