‘On that subject her opinion is mine,’ said I, ‘and I am sure it would be no ordinary gratification to Thomas Moore, to hear his praise poured forth so eloquently from the lips of a fair countrywoman. The works of Moore and Byron excite my feelings in reading them, more than those of any modern poet; different in their style, yet each in that style excelling all others. I cannot find a better simile to express my opinion of their powers, than one drawn from the fairy legend of O’Donoghue. The poetry of Moore may be compared to the band of youths and maidens who skim over the lake, to the sound of heavenly music, scattering flowers on every side,—that of Byron to the spectre chief, who, mounted on his resistless spirit-horse, prances through the foam-crested waves.’ ‘Well,’ said Eugene, ‘I suppose you have heard enough of Ireland for one night; we may as well retire to rest, for we rise earlier here than you do in town. This is a busy time with us, and we must be all at work by four in the morning.’ ‘At work,’ said I, ‘so early?’ ‘Yes,’ said Eugene, ‘for although we generally spend our evenings in this manner, we find it necessary to assist in the labours of the farm during the day. Many of the higher class of society laugh at the idea of individuals who earn their bread by manual labour, possessing refined taste or imagination; they consider it as incongruous and unnatural. Not content with engrossing all the pleasures of sense, they seek to rob them of those which a cultivated mind afford; and any attempt of their poorer brethren to soar into the regions of science or imagination, is met by them with the most supercilious contempt and sneering ridicule. The novel writers of our day have contributed much towards this false and unjust association,—all their _dramatis personæ_ are dukes, lords, and squires, rich as Crœsus, with nothing to do but gad about the country. In proportion to the mental powers, intellectual cultivation has the same effect upon the poor man and the rich,—the want of it equally debases them. But knowledge does not altogether depend on going through a certain routine of education. The man of keen observation, who has his eyes and ears open, and compares and draws conclusions from all that comes within his notice, who thinks for himself, and reasons fearlessly on all subjects, that man will gain knowledge under very unfavourable circumstances.’