scene three days back, she has excused herself twice from the drawing

desk; and to-day appeared at it with the priest by her side. Her playful familiarity is vanished, and a chill reserve, uncongenial to the native ardour of her manner has succeeded. Surely she cannot be so vain, so weak, as to mistake my attentions to her as a young and lovely woman, my admiration of her talents, and my surprise at the originality of her character, for a serious passion. And supposing me to be a wanderer and a hireling, affect to reprove my temerity by haughtiness and disdain.

Would you credit it! by Heavens, I am sometimes weak enough to be on the very point of telling her who and what I am, when she plays off her little airs of Milesian pride and female superciliousness. You perceive, therefore, by the conduct of this little Irish recluse, that on the subject of love and vanity, woman is everywhere, and in all situations the same. For what coquette reared in the purlieus of St. James’s, could be more a _portée_ to those effects which denote the passion, or more apt to suspect she had awakened it into existence, than this inexperienced, unsophisticated being! who I suppose never spoke to ten men in her life, save the superanuated inhabitants of her paternal ruins. Perhaps, however, she only means to check the growing familiarity of my manner, and to teach me the disparity of rank which exists between us; for, with all her native strength of mind, the influence of invariable example and precept has been too strong for her, and she has unconsciously imbibed many of her father’s prejudices respecting antiquity of descent and nobility of birth. She will frequently say, “O! such a one is a true Milesian!”--or, “he is a descendant of the _English_ Irish;” or, “they are new people--we hear nothing of them till the wars of Cromwell,” and so on. Yet at other times, when reason lords it over prejudice, she will laugh at that weakness in others, she sometimes betrays in herself.

The other day, as we stood chatting at a window together, pointing to an elderly man who passed by, she said, “there goes a poor Connaught gentleman, who would rather starve than work--he is a _follower_ of the family and has been just entertaining my father with an account of our ancient splendour. We have too many instances of this species of _mania_ among us.

“The celebrated Bishop of Cloyne relates an anecdote of a kitchen-maid, who refused to carry out cinders, because she was of Milesian descent. And Father John tells a story of a young gentleman in Limerick, who, being received under the patronage of a nobleman going out as governor general of India, sacrificed his interest to his _national pride_; for having accompanied his lordship on board of the vessel which was to convey them to the East, and finding himself placed at the foot of the dining table, he instantly arose, and went on shore, declaring that ‘as a _true Milesian_, he would not submit to any indignity, to purchase the riches of the East India Company.

“All this,” continued Glorvina, “is ridiculous, nay, it is worse, for it is highly dangerous and fatal to the community at large. It is the source of innumerable disorders, by promoting idleness, and consequently vice. It frequently checks the industry of the poor, and limits the exertions of the rich, and perhaps is not among the least of those sources whence our national miseries flow. At the same time, I must own, I have a very high idea of the virtues which exalted birth does or ought to bring with it. Marmontel elegantly observes, ‘nobility of birth is a letter of credit given us on our country, upon the security of our ancestors, in the conviction that at a proper period of life we shall acquit ourselves with honour to those who stand engaged for us.’”

Observe, that this passage was quoted in the first person, but not, as in the original, in the second, and with an air of dignity that elevated her pretty little head some inches.

“Since,” she continued, “we are all the beings of education, and that its most material branch, example, lies vested in our parents, it is natural to suppose that those superior talents or virtues which in early stages of society are the purchase of worldly elevation, become hereditary, and that the noble principles of our ancestors should descend to us with their titles and estates.”

“Ah,” said I, smiling, “these are the ideas of an Irish Princess, reared in the palace of her ancestors on the shores of the Atlantic ocean.”

“They may be,” she returned, “the ideas of an inexperienced recluse, but I think they are not less the result of rational supposition, strengthened by the evidence of internal feeling; for though I possessed not that innate dignity of mind which instinctively spurned at the low suggestion of vicious dictates, yet the consciousness of the virtues of those from whom I am descended, would prevent me from sullying by an unworthy action of mine, the unpolluted name I had the honour to bear.”

She then repeated several anecdotes of the heroism, rectitude, and virtue of her ancestors of both sexes, adding, “this was once the business of our Bards, Fileas, and Seanachps; but we are now obliged to have recourse to our own memories, in order to support our own dignity. But do not suppose I am so weak as to be dazzled by a _sound_, or to consider mere title in any other light than as a golden toy judiciously worn to secure the respect of the vulgar, who are incapable of appreciating that ‘which surpassed show,’ * which, as my father says, is sometimes given to him who saves, and sometimes bestowed on him who betrays his country. O! no; for I would rather possess _one_ beam of that genius which elevates _your_ mind above all worldly distinction, and those principles of integrity which breathe in your sentiments and ennoble your soul, than----”

* “He feels no ennobling principles in his own heart, who wishes to level all the artificial institutes which have been adopted for giving body to opinion, and per manence to future esteem.”--Burke.

Thus hurried away by the usual impetuosity of her feelings, she abruptly stopped, fearful, perhaps, that she had gone too far. And then, after a moment added--“but who will dare to bring the soul’s nobility in competition with the shortlived elevation which man bestows on man!”

This was the first direct compliment she ever paid me; and I received it with a silent bow, a throbbing heart, and a colouring cheek.

Is she not an extraordinary creature! I meant to have given you an unfavourable opinion of her prejudices; and in transcribing my documents of accusation, I have actually confirmed myself in a better opinion of her heart and understanding than I ever before indulged in. For to think well of _her_, is a positive indulgence to my philanthropy, after having thought so ill of all her sex.

But her virtues and her genius have nothing to do with the ice which crystalizes round her heart; and which renders her as coldly indifferent to the talents and virtues with which her fancy has invested me, as though they were in possession of a hermit of fourscore. Yet, God knows, nothing less than cold does her character appear. That mutability of complexion which seems to flow perpetually to the influence of her evident feelings and vivid imagination, that ethereal warmth which animates her manners; the force and energy of her expressions, the enthusiasm of her disposition, the uncontrollable smile, the involuntary tear, the spontaneous sigh!--Are these indications of an icy heart? And yet, shut up as we are together, thus closely associated, the sympathy of our tastes, our pursuits! But the fact is, I begin to fear that I have imported into the shades of Inismore some of my London presumption: and that, after all, I know as little of this charming _sport of Nature_, as when I first beheld her--possibly my perceptions have become as sophisticated as the objects to whom they have hitherto been directed; and want refinement and subtilty to enter into all the delicate _minutiae_ of her superior and original character, which is at once both _natural_ and _national_. Adieu!

H. M.