“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.”