any conceivable effect, was likely to prove an occasion to him of such annoyances, on account of his faith, as we have described in these pages.  “The character,” however, he succeeded in procuring, and written in no niggard terms.  If it offended in any thing, it was in being too favorable to the bearer.  It was by means of this paper, with the respectable name of Rev. Dr. H——­ at its foot, that Cunningham succeeded in ingratiating himself into the confidence and favor of the O’Clerys during the voyage, as well as by his attention to Mr. Arthur O’Clery during his fatal sickness.  The reverend gentleman whose signature stood at the foot of the “character” was well known to the O’Clery family; and hence, undoubtedly, originated the intimacy, strengthened by his asserting falsely that he was a relative of the priest, which subsequently enabled him to rob the poor widow and her orphans of their entire means.  Accomplished villain as he was, Religion had not yet lost her whole sway over his soul, and by way of punishing himself, but in reality, making bad worse, the second day after his liberation from arrest consequent on the theft, he listed in the United States army, and was hurried off forthwith to the field of battle, in Florida.  The gnawing worm of remorse still followed him on board of ship, and in barrack, and on the scorching plains of the south.  He had less dread of the sabre, or grape, or rifle of the enemy, than of the thought that he had robbed the poor widow, and availed himself of the confidence of confession to elicit from his too confiding director the paper that principally enabled him to do so.  He had plundered an honest family of their all, and it was of no use to him.  The injury done was severely felt by not only one, but several.  The pleasure, comfort, or happiness to him was nothing at all.  Unhappy man, what was he to do?  He could not help it now; the enemy was before him, and he could not turn his back, and the money was lost forever.  He feared death would deprive him of the means of making restitution, for he had a presentiment he would fall on this very day.  First, that sin he committed in Liverpool, when, in an evil hour, yielding to the advice and example of wicked companions, he took to drink in order to smother the thought of it; and drink caused him to rob the widow, and to shun further the thought of these crimes he enlisted in the army; but yet, here, in the very ranks, with drums beating, and music playing, amid the shouts of Indians and din of battle, the sins were uppermost still in his mind.  How horrid must be the feelings of poor Cunningham, with death staring him in the face, and yet he expected nothing but judgment after death!  In vain did he look around for the tall and venerable form of Father McEl——­, to cast himself at his knees, and ask for advice, blessing, and forgiveness.  He was nowhere now to be found.  O misery unspeakable!  And but yesterday, but this very morning, four hours ago, that father went through the ranks, encouraging the men,