s to be had, but
with money we might get all we wanted; indeed, the peasants constantly
referred to this means of success, even to asking 'What the French would
give a man that was to join them?' If I did not translate the demand
with fidelity to my colonel, it was really that a sense of shame
prevented me. My whole heart was in the cause; and I could not endure
the thought of its being degraded in this way. It was growing duskish,
and the colonel proposed that the peasant should show us the way to
the fishing-harbour he spoke of, while some other of the party might go
round to our boat, and direct them to follow us thither. The arrangement
was soon made, and we all sauntered down towards the shore, chatting
over the state of the country, and the chances of a successful rising.
From the specimen before me, I was not disposed to be over sanguine
about the peasantry. The man was evidently disaffected towards England.
He bore her neither good-will nor love, but his fears were greater than
all else. He had never heard of anything but failure in all attempts
against her, and he could not believe in any other result. Even the aid
and alliance of France inspired no other feeling than distrust, for
he said more than once, 'Sure what can harm yez? Haven't ye yer ships
beyant, to take yez away, if things goes bad?'

I was heartily glad that Colonel Charost knew so little English, that
the greater part of the peasant's conversation was unintelligible to
him, since, from the first, he had always spoken of the expedition in
terms of disparagement; and certainly what we were now to hear was not
of a nature to controvert the prediction.

In our ignorance as to the habits and modes of thought of the people,
we were much surprised at the greater interest the peasant betrayed when
asking us about France and her prospects, than when the conversation
concerned his own country. It appeared as though, in the one case,
distance gave grandeur and dimensions to all his conceptions, while
familiarity with home scenes and native politics had robbed them of
all their illusions. He knew well that there were plenty of hardships,
abundance of evils, to deplore in Ireland: rents were high, taxes and
tithes oppressive, agents were severe, bailiffs were cruel Social wrongs
he could discuss for hours, but of political woes, the only ones we
could be expected to relieve or care for, he really knew nothing. ''Tis
true,' he repeated, 'that what my honour s