The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1847-09-07 00:00:00

THE PERSONATOR.
A SCENE FROM " AN IRISH ELECTION IN THE TIME

OF THE FORTIES.-
(From the .Dublin University _Magazinef-)

_
" Ay, but where is he, and what 's his name ?"
" He is under the care of honest Paddy Brandy, who
will see that he doesn't communicate with or go over to
the enemy. His real name, I dare say, few know ; his
alias, for the present, is Pendleton."
He had scarcely concluded, when Brandy, who received
that soubriquet from his predilection for the liquor in
question, which was the only description of spirits he
ever drank, now entered, accompanied by a respectable-
looking Methodist preacher, or, at least, by a person in
the garb of one. •
" What is this. Paddy ?" exclaimed Burnside, angrily ;
" where did you leave Pendleton, or what has become of

him ?" -
" Begorra, sir," replied Brandy, " he was too soople
for me ! What has become of him is more than I can
tell; but he has given me the slip at all events. In the
mane time, here is a gintleman that wishes to say some-
thing to you about the election."
" Certainly," said Burnside ' • " with pleasure. I hope
you 're a friend, sir," he added, addressing the stranger.
" I know not exactly whether I am a friend to you,
sir," replied the Methodist ; " but I trust I am a friend
to truth." _ _ _

" Have you a vote ?" asked Burnside.
" I have a vote," replied the other,
," but I am not
clear that I should give it to a man whose private morals
are questionable, as those of Mr. Vanston are reported to
be."
" We have nothing to do with his private life, I hope,"
said Burnside.
" Pardon me, my friend ; that is the great error of
Protestantism—in the heat of our zeal for the ascendancy
of our principles, we are too apt to overlook purity of
private life. How can a man, negligent of moral obliga-
tion, and dead to religious experience, prove himself a
consistent advocate for truth ?"
" Pray, are you a clergyman ?" asked Billy, adroitly;
" because, if you be, no man, I assure you, respects con-
scientious scruples more than I do. Your sentiments
certainly do you honour "
" I am a clergyman only in a certain sense; in a true
sense, I trust, though not in a legal one. I belong to
that humble but earnest class, the Primitive Wesleyans,
and my call to teach and to preach is from above. My
name is John Wesley O'Rafferty—a brand plucked from
the burning, and a sincere convert from the abominable
system of Popery."
" Pray, was your father a Papist, Mr. O'R
" Unhappily he was," replied O'Rafferty,
I fear he is now paying the penalty."
" And how did it happen that he, being a Catholic
should have christened you John Wesley O'Rafferty
asked Burnside

" He never did so, my friend,"
" The name bestowed upon me at

or, as I was more familiarly called, raday. un-
comfortable under that ungodly name as soon as I had
ceased to be an Idolater, and changed it to the more suit-
able one of John Wesley."

with great suavity,
cerity. But, Mr.

" and an evident proof of yo
Wesley, I trust you are coming

us your vote."
" Unless Mr. Vanston shall express himself willing to
attend some of our meetings, and sit occasionally under
T fear T cannot conscientiously do so.
_T

ur 1111111SL ry, Mai i c.c. La al v.+ t..•••••-•••••
am decidedly opposed to the practice of sending ungodly
men to parliament. I think none but serious persons, of
decided piety, should be sent there, and that our legisla-
ture ought to be only another name for a religious meet-

You are perfectly right, Mr. O'Rafferty," replied
hni- ' f.,,,hinff your objection, I believe I

Durnsuie ; -- out, --j-
-ean remove it ; for it is no longer than the day beforc
yesterday that Mr. Vanston spoke in the highest terms of
the connexion to which you belong, and expressed a de.
, 1-1 ...al-slrnadi fr.. the

•-•
county, to• examine into your principles. I encourage(
him strongly in that determination, having myself fel
very serious impressions for some time past, and a dispc
*tion to take the same steps. So far, then, as Mr. V

ston is concerned, you may lay aside your scruples.
" There is a good deal of truth in what the gentlemar
says," observed another supporter of Vanston's.
man of unscrupulous life and morals ought not,
paribus, to be returned to parliament whilst a man o
Private worth and honour can be had. See what discredi'

the Liberal party have entailed upon themselves, by
electing unprincipled adventurers, who have scarcely any
other means of subsistence than what they derive from
the sale of their franks, or swindle at the gaming-table
—men without fortune, principle, or character—the assn.
ciates of sharpers and blacklegs—who contrive to gel
themselves into parliament, not for the public good, but
in order to be able to laugh at and cheat their creditors
These men, I say, may be proper exponents of the publil
honesty which influences the party that countenance,
them, in defiance of public shame and decency, but chey

are, at the same time, very unfit persons to guard th
moral interests of society, which they themselves openl
trample upon and viol
" Well, in that case
himself to Burnside

" observed O'Rafferty, addr
" I think I may lay aside my

pies, and I can promise you five votes."
" Brandy, what the devil are you grinning at ?" sai
Burnside, interrupting John Wesley ;," better for you
C- 1

D presen
secure Pendlet
of you to let him escape
added, turning to Wesley—

f you can ;

.t was rather a soft job

I beg your par

pray pro

:ed."
" I 'll eng:

ver mind, sir

repile
Jaz yet,

a forthcc

I. ver rev

A the other

five honest votes for you.
O'Rafferty, the Methodist preacher
one Paddy Boulger, a farmer ; thix
chael Boulger, a brother of Paddy's, about
heaven, I hope ; fourth, ditto—another brother of mit
that went to paradise on a French bullet from the battl
of Watherlew, now betther than a year agone ; fifth, ditt,

next, r

taken out
's wig and

my beloved, unless by my suspicions and my temper, and I
when did a kind word fail to soothe me ? Give not vent
to your anger—be•not inexorable. My heart is breaking.
Theobald, pity I pity ! on her who loves you! Trust
your happiness to my keeping, as I trust mine to yours.
* * * Do not break the heart that is beating only for
you. You who once loved me so much, forgive. When
you confess to me your sorrows—your bead upon my
sorrows—your head upon my breast, your hands in mine,
my lips upon your forehead,—do you think that they will
not be leo than if pent up in your own breast ? Do not
sacrifice our mutual happiness to an empty fear that I
will abuse your goodness; no, no, I will only share and
console you in all your sorrows. But will you be the less
a man to have a loving woman to share your pleasures
and your sorrow ? Let this union of our hearts be a
sweet mystery of love between us. Oh ! we could be so
happy if you would but try it. You would always be met
with a happy and smiling countenance, ready to follow
you wherever you liked. Perhaps, after all, you are the
more lealous of the two. God knows what suspicion you
may nourish in your breast, for I am at a loss how to in-
terpret your secret sorrows. If you knew what I suffer,
my beloved ! It is still in our power to be so happy, I
cannot think that you wish to abandon me_ thus for ever
to deprive us of mutual happiness—life is so short, my
beloved, and we have been separated so long ! Soon, I
shall not dare to make proposals, always refused like my
caresses. It is not your character to make the first ad-
vances, and from custom your wife will fear you too much
to make further attempts, and life will then pass by, and
you will be unhappy and your wife will die of grief. Oh,
return ! return unto her !

LETTER OF THE DUCHESS OF FRASLIN FOUND IN THE

DESK OF THE DUKE, AT PARIS

MAY 21;-1840.—Do not be astonished, my dear Theo-
bald, at my fear of being alone with you. We are sepa-
rated—for always—you said so ; a sad recollection will
ever be attached. to,yesterday. You must have perceived
yesterday that I felt its full weight, when, in the presence
of persons who are the cause of this separation, nothing
betrayed that it had taken place. You will never have
occasion to complain of me before the world—my conduct
yesterday is proof sufficient. As long as 1 nourished
hopes of a reconciliation. (and latterly I had many) I was
hovering between joy and fear, and gave way to fits of
temper ; but now that the sacrifice is done, you need not
fear. Before the children and the world, nothing will
lead to the supposition that you have destroyed my peace.
When I say you, it is not you that my heart accuses, but
to be alone with you

towards you t

be too r

My heart would o-ve

Imposes upon me. _ _.ow ; it will
need time to calm its movements—then, mon ami, instead
of avoiding you, I shall seek your presence—but at the
present moment I love you too well.

endeavour to forget my past hopes. Time and habit can
alone teach me to draw a line between Theobald and M.
de Praslin. If I could but think that you would be happy

ved me ! We will meet in heaven ;
times cross your mind, that I still

love you!

EXTRACTS FROM A DIARY FOUND IN THE CHAMBEP

" April 23, 1842.—A'
IL Oh, he

beyond rec

11 is finished. We have quarrelled
a is more 'than harsh, he is cruel

towards me. How could he acquire this excess of aver-
sion for me whose love he knows to be so pure, so tender,
so devoted ? What infamous influences have been at

teful and intractable.
rdered all my

becorut
Has he not

just? He excuses himself doubtless by telling himself
that my character he
Bose is the fault