oppressing them. But now at length an opportunity was come to be rid of his troublesome company. Among the prisoners was Thomas Ellwood, a man of literature, and of an acute wit, with whom, long after, I entered into a familiar and pleasing correspondence by letters. The said Ellwood, when he had heard that they were to be sent to Bridewell, drew near to the sheriff, and pointing to the aforesaid fellow, said, "That man is not only none of our company, but an idle dissolute fellow, who hath thrust himself among our friends, that he might live upon them; therefore I desire we may not be troubled with him at Bridewell." The sheriff smiling, and seeing this fellow standing with his hat on, and looking as demurely as he could, that the sheriff might take him for a Quaker, called him forth, and said to him, "How came you to be in prison?" I was taken at a meeting, said he. But what business had you there, said the sheriff. I went to hear, returned the fellow. Aye, you went upon a worse design, it seems, replied the sheriff; but I will disappoint you, continued he; for I will change your company, and send you to them that are like yourself. Then calling for the turnkey, he said, "Take this fellow, and put him among the felons; and be sure let him not trouble the Quakers any more." The fellow not a little astonished at hearing of this doom, on a sudden parted with his Quakership; for off went his hat, and falling to bowing and scraping, he said to the sheriff, "Good your worship have pity upon me, and set me at liberty." "No, no, said the sheriff, "I will not so far disappoint you: since you had a mind to be in prison, in prison you shall be for me." Then bidding the turnkey once more to take him away, he had him up, and put him among the felons. After this manner this pretended Quaker was rewarded according to his deeds; and so the true Quakers got rid of him. Breaking off now this jocose and diverting, though true narrative, I return to a serious relation of the sufferings of the faithful, which caused the death of some of them, among these was Richard Hubberthorn, who some time before, as hath been related, had a conference with the king, who then promised him, that he and his friends should not suffer for their opinions or religion. But now he was in the month called June, violently haled from the meeting, bearing the name of the Bull and Mouth, and brought before alderman Richard Brown, who with his own hands pulled down his hat upon his head with such violence, that he brought his head near to the ground, and then committed him to Newgate, where being thronged among others, he soon grew sick; and his sickness so increased, than he had hardly been two months in prison, before he was taken away by death. Two days before his departure, being visited by some of his friends, who asked him if any thing was upon his spirit, he said, "That there was no need to dispute matters, for he knew the ground of his salvation, and was satisfied for ever in his peace with the Lord." He also said, "That faith which hath wrought my salvation, I well know, and have grounded satisfaction in it." In the morning before he departed, one Sarah Blackberry was with him, to whom he said, "Do not seek to hold me, for it is too strait for me, and out of this straitness I must go; for I am wound into largeness, and am to be lifted up on high, far above all." In this frame of mind he departed this life, in the evening, and so entered with happiness into eternity. Now I come also to the glorious exit of E. Burrough, that valiant hero, of whom mention hath often been made in this history. For several years he had been very much in London, and there preached the gospel with piercing and powerful declarations. And that city was so near to him, that oftentimes, when persecution grew hot, he said to Francis Howgil, his bosom friend, "I can freely go to the city of London, and lay down my life for a testimony of that truth, which I have declared through the power and spirit of God." Being in this year at Bristol, and thereabouts, and moved to return to London, he said to many of his friends, when he took his leave of them, That he did not know he should see their faces any more; and therefore he exhorted them, to faithfulness and steadfastness, in that wherein they had found rest for their souls. And to some he said, "I am now going up to the city of London again, to lay down my life for the gospel, and suffer amongst friends in that place. Not long after coming to London, and preach ing in the meeting house called the Bull and Mouth, he was violently pulled down by some soldiers, and had before alderman Richard Brown, and committed to Newgate. Several weeks afterwards, being brought to the sessions house in the Old Bailey, he was fined by the court twenty marks, and to lie in prison till payment. But judging this unreasonable in a high degree, he could not bend thereto for conscience sake. He was kept there in prison about eight months, with six or seven score prisoners besides, upon the same account. But they being so crowded, that for want of room their natures were suffocated, many grew sick and died, of which number he was one. And though a special order from the king, was sent to the sheriffs of London, for his and some other prisoners release, yet such was the enmity of some of the city magistrates, especially Brown, that they did what was in their power to prevent the execution of the said order. And thus E. Burrough continued prisoner, though his sickness increased. During the time of his weakness, he was very fervent in prayer, as well for his friends as for himself; and many consolatory and glorious expressions proceeded from his mouth. Once he was heard to say, "I have had the testimony of the Lord's love unto me from my youth; and my heart, O Lord, hath been given up to do thy will. I have preached the gospel freely in this city, and have often given up my life for the gospel's sake; and now, O Lord, rip open my heart, and see if it be not right before thee." At another time he said, "There is no iniquity lies at my door; but the presence of the Lord is with me, and his life I feel justifies me." Another time he was thus heard in prayer to God, "Thou hast loved me when I was in the womb; and I have loved thee faithfully in my generation." And to his friends that were about him, he said, "Live in love and peace, "The Lord taketh the righteous from the evil to come." And praying for his enemies and persecutors, he said, "Lord forgive Richard Brown, if he may be forgiven." And being sensible that death was approaching, he said, "Though this body of clay must turn into dust, yet I have a testimony that I have served God in my generation; and that spirit which hath lived and acted, and ruled in me, shall yet break |