Another place where Protestants were confined in Wexford was the barracks. The rebel senate were strict in arresting Catholics whom they deemed traitors to their cause. On Sunday, the 3d of June, one of their number, who had been a witness against one Dixon, a priest, was taken out and shot. To render his death more ignominious in the eyes of his brethren, they compelled Protestant prisoners to be his executioners. Taylor gives the following account of the tragic scene: "After mass by a priest, and receiving instructions, Thomas Dixon, a near relative of the priest, was appointed to conduct the awful business. He was one of the most barbarous men to the defenseless that ever existed, but a greater coward in battle could not be. He had the prisoner brought to the bull-ring, and a Mr. Robison, one of the executioners, being ordered to fire, the unfortunate man fell dead; when Dixon ran up and thrust his sword through his neck; then drawing it forth, he held it up to the view of the mob, desiring them to 'behold the blood of a TRAITOR!' His body was dragged to the river and thrown in. Two of his executioners were massacred on the bridge on the 20th of June; the other escaped."

For several days Mr. G. and his comrades were undisturbed in prison, except that occasionally large mobs of rebel sailors and others, half intoxicated, would assemble outside the jail-yard gate, shouting, cursing, and striving to force their way in, to put the heretics, as they called them, all to death.

'As I was sitting," says Mr. Gurley, "on some straw on the floor, on the 6th or 7th of June, reading in a little Testament, Messrs. Danniels, Piggot, and Julian, all gentlemen in the service of the government, and fellow-prisoners, came to the door of our cell, and some twenty others with them. As they came near, several cried, 'O, Mr. Gurley, pray for us!' 'Pray for yourselves,' said I. 'O, we can't,'

replied they. What,' said I, 'is the matter now?' 'Don't you hear,' said they, 'the shouting? Five or six hundred sailors are trying to get in to murder us all!' I then called on one of the prisoners, who was religious, to pray, but he was so terrified he could not. So I bade them kneel down. But O, the situation we were in! Such weeping I never saw before. The cell was full, and the entrance full; and, as they leaned on one another weeping, I prayed till I was quite fatigued, and was about to stop, when they cried, 'O, don't stop!' So I leaned my back against the wall and continued for some time longer, until I was quite exhausted."

Mr. G. often spoke of this as one of the most affecting scenes he ever witnessed under prayer. Men who had never prayed before, were melted into tenderness, and sobbed like children. The fear of death for the time seemed to be forgotten, or dissipated by the expulsive power of deeper and stronger emotions.

Mr. G. continues: "When I stopped praying, I rose up and said, 'Friends, the effects you now feel and witness do not ascribe to any virtue or holiness in me or my poor prayers, but to the Spirit of God, who is operating on your hearts. Many of you, I presume, never prayed before; and now that death, and judgment, and an awful eternity are before you, and a strict account to be rendered, O continue to call on God, through Christ, while you exist. It may be our guards will give us up to the mob to be butchered this very night. Call, then, on the Lord while he may be found; he is now at work in your hearts. Cease not, then, to pray for mercy while you breathe, for I do believe some of us will never leave this place but for eternity.' This was, in fact, the case with some of these very men. Poor Danniels was one. I observed that he prayed very fervently. He was murdered on the bridge the 20th of June. I found his body

afterward, on a place called the Cat's Strand, without a particle of raiment, except a black velvet stock about his neck. I had him put in a coffin which I took for my brother Jonas, who was murdered the same day."

Mr. Gurley has left but little on record in regard to his own personal feelings and religious enjoyment during the three weeks he was in the hands of his enemies. He seems to have been more anxious for others than himself; and resigned to the will of God, he improved every opportunity to lead others, who were in like peril with himself, to that grace which was now his chief support.

But the following brief paragraph shows that he was not without the "consolations of God:" "Here, in prison, we had time to read and pray; and, for my own part, my soul was full of joy and peace in the Holy Ghost. O, at such a time to have peace with God-peace with one's own soul! Such was the state of mind with me at this time; I could still call God my Father."

He found consolation himself, and cheered the gloom of others, by singing frequently such hymns of Mr. Wesley's as were familiar to his memory. His voice, even at a later period, was surpassingly sweet, musical, and of great compass.

Among others, the following lines, from the composition of Mr. Charles Wesley, were sung, to cheer their solitary hours:

"Come, O thou traveler unknown,

Whom still I hold, but cannot see;

My company before is gone,

And I am left alone with thee:

With thee all night I mean to stay,

And wrestle till the break of day.

What though my shrinking flesh complain,
And murmur to contend so long:

I rise superior to my pain:

When I am weak, then I am strong:
And, when my all of strength shall fail,
I shall with the God-man prevail.”

The following, from another hymn, were also favorite lines with him, having been frequently sung by him at that time:

"Happy the man whose hopes rely

On Israel's God; he made the sky,

And earth, and seas, with all their train;
His truth for ever stands secure;

He saves th' oppressed, and feeds the poor,
And none shall find his promise vain.

The Lord pours eyesight on the blind;
The Lord supports the fainting mind;
He sends the lab'ring conscience peace;
He helps the stranger in distress,
The widow and the fatherless,

And grants the prisoner sweet release."

These, with some other portions of the hymns of our Church, were, in after life, sung by him with peculiar effect and feeling. He seemed attached to them from the very fact that they had been his companions in the hours of his greatest tribulation; as one becomes the enduring friend of those who have ministered comfort to him in the time of necessity or distress.

CHAPTER X.

Progress of the insurgents-Division of the army-Battle of Newtown-barry-Insurgents defeated- Battle of Gorey-King's troops cut off, and Gorey taken-Harvy's camp-Sculaooge House Troops march to attack Ross-Proceedings in WexfordCruel treatment of Protestants-Rev. Mr. Owen-his sufferings→ Jonas Gurley required to shoot a prisoner-Baptizing hereticsMr. Gurley's mother-Martyrdom of Protestants on Vinegar Hill— Narrative of a prisoner-Murders in cold blood sanctioned by priests.

HAVING thus accompanied the subject of this biography to his prison, and marked in what manner his time was there spent, we may now leave him for a season, and trace the progress of the insurgents; and see in what manner, as if led by some fatality, they conducted their boasted struggles for freedom.

While the rebel senate was rapidly filling the prisons, the hitherto victorious army was by no means idle. The separation of the body into three divisions, after they left Wexford, has been mentioned. One of these divisions, under father Kearns, a Catholic priest, encamped on Vinegar Hill, and on the next day after their retirement from the city, numbered fifteen thousand men; most of whom were well armed, and impatient for conquest and plunder. Early that morning the drums beat to arms; and, led by their sacred commander and under officers, they marched several miles, to a place called Newtown-barry. This was a beautiful village, on the line between the counties of Wexford and Carlow. Embosomed in the hills which rise in emerald loveliness around it, and washed by the river Slaney, which curves partly round it, few places in Ireland could present a more delightful abode, or more charming scenery.

This place was garrisoned by about four hundred men,