garrison, and carried before an inquisitor, who informed William, that the bringing of their books into the country was a capital crime, and would cost him his life; asking them if they did not know that "Catholics" had laws to burn and torment heretics, and any who carried such books. For more than a week, they were beset with attempts to induce them to profess the Popish religion, and threatened with the rack: which threats at length were put in execution. The inquisitor came to William, and told him that he was to be subjected to the rack, and afterwards was to lose his head. It seems that they professed to consider these Friends as spies, in order to justify in some degree the cruelties they designed to inflict upon them. It was in vain that William pleaded his innocence; he was put to the rack, whereby his thumbs were exceedingly pinched by iron screws, his arm dislocated, and his back and many of his joints twisted and bent by tight cords; his chin was drawn close to his breast, and his mouth and throat so distorted, that he was almost choked. Then John was brought, who not seeing his companion, supposed that he had been hung on a gallows which was in the place: he also was put to the torture in the midst of his protestations of innocence. They were now told, that it would soon be determined by what mode they should lose their lives. The inquisitor required William to put in writing the principal tenets of his religion, and intercepted a letter which they wrote to the governor remonstrating against these cruelties. After about sixteen weeks' imprisonment, they were conveyed in chains to General Nadasti; and passing under a sort of examination before him and several other lords of that country, they were condemned to be burned, if they did not submit to embrace the Popish religion. Under this dismal sentence John Philly was divinely supported, and encouraged his companion, in a full persuasion that the power of the Almighty would still open a way for the preservation of their lives, by dividing the

counsels of their persecutors; which proved to be the case. They were now sent to a place near Vienna, where they were searched by the priests, their books and papers taken away, and they were threatened with most cruel tortures. Manacles were locked on their wrists, so tight as to make them cry out with pain, and they were thrust into a narrow hole along with some Turkish prisoners, and not allowed straw, or scarcely room to lie down. William Moore became much discouraged at their disconsolate situation, being again threatened to be burned to death; and crying to the Almighty for help, he was encouraged, by means of a dream, to believe the Lord would provide for their safety. The very same day, a message came from a certain earl in authority there, expressing his displeasure at these rigorous proceedings of the priests.

It was now resolved by these men to separate the two Friends, and William was violently and clandestinely carried off in a sled over the snow, to a convent several miles distant in a wilderness, where he was laid in chains, and the next day blindfolded and put into a deep dungeon; a Jew there being threatened with death if he gave any intelligence of him. Here he was kept four days and nights, in severe frosty weather, with nothing to subsist upon but bread and water; and he was apprehensive that their intention was privately to murder him in this secret place.

After about twelve days' imprisonment, they renewed their attempts to convert him to the Romish religion; but he still remaining inflexibly firm to that faith, the divine efficacy of which he had experienced, they again had recourse to menaces, threatening at one time to cut out his tongue, and at another, to flay him alive, if he would not turn papist.

There was a man named Adam Bien, a barber to the above-mentioned earl, who at the place of their confinement,

near Vienna, had found means sometimes to have access to them, and had been reached by their pious discourse, and in good degree convinced of the truth of their principles. This man commiserated much their suffering condition, and exerted himself indefatigably to obtain their release. By some means he found out the place of William's detention, notwithstanding the secrecy maintained by the priests, and supplied him with some refreshments. The earl being seized with sickness, from which his recovery was doubtful, Adam, who had influence with this nobleman, seized this opportunity of renewing his solicitations in their favor, and finally succeeded in obtaining an order for their release. They were then set at liberty, and though turned adrift without any money, which had all been taken away from them, and in a country infested with war, yet they were favored to arrive in safety among their friends.

CHAPTER XVI.

EDWARD BURROUGH AND RICHARD HUBBERTHORN, BEING VIOLENTLY SEIZED AT THE BULL-AND-MOUTH MEETING, DIE IN PRISON.

DURING the death for the cause of a good conscience

URING the year 1662, died Edward Burrough, a

toward God. We have seen by what process of mental experience and refinement he was brought to a knowledge of the Truth as it is in Jesus, and how, about the eighteenth year of his age, his Divine Master saw fit to make use of him to sound the glad tidings of the Gospel to his fellowmen. His ministry was powerful and reaching, his doctrine

sound, and his language eloquent; having learned in the best school, that of Christ himself, and been prepared for the ministry by the immediate teachings of the Spirit of Truth, gradually leading unto the living experience of holiness, and clothing him with ardent desires for the salvation of mankind.

His own example gave efficacy to his ministry. He lived as he advised others to live, in the fear of his Maker, and in a sense of His omnipresence. His natural disposition was bold and manly, tempered with innocence; his conversation affable and instructive, circumscribed by great watchfulness over himself. His Christian courage in the fulfilment of his duty was remarkable, an instance of which here mention.

we may

On one of his frequent visits to London, he passed by a place, where a number of rude muscular men were exhibiting feats of wrestling, before a multitude of idle people, who stood gazing at them outside a ring. He saw how one strong and dexterous fellow had already thrown three others, and was waiting for a fourth champion, if any durst venture to enter the lists. At length, none being bold enough to try, Edward Burrough stepped within the ring; and looking upon the wrestler with a serious countenance, the man was not a little surprised, instead of an airy antagonist, to meet with a grave and awful young man. All stood amazed at the sight, wondering what would be the issue of this contest. But it was quite another fight that Edward aimed at. He began very seriously to speak to the by-standers, and that with such a heart-piercing power, that he was heard by this mixed and rude multitude with no less attention than admiration. His speech tended to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God. To effect this, he labored with convincing power, showing how God had not left himself without a witness, but had graciously enlightened every man with the light of Christ. Thus

zealously he preached; and though many might look on this as a novelty, yet it was of such effect, that some were convinced of the truth.

He travelled in many parts of England, Ireland, Scotland and Flanders, in the exercise of his ministerial gift, meeting with repeated sufferings and imprisonments. But his principal field of labor was London and its neighborhood, where his ministry was effectual to the conversion of many. His gospel solicitude for the inhabitants of that city was so warm, that when persecution grew hot, he said to his bosom friend, Francis Howgill: "I can freely go to that city, and lay down my life for a testimony to that truth, which I have declared through the Spirit and power of God." And being this year on a visit to Friends in Bristol, in taking leave of them, he said "he did not know that he should see their faces any more;" and therefore exhorted them to faithfulness; adding to some, "I am now going up to London again, to lay down my life for the Gospel, and suffer among Friends in that place."

About that time the rage of persecution was such, that it was estimated there were five hundred Friends in prison at one time in London alone; and the Friends who met for divine worship at the "Bull-and-Mouth" meeting, near the centre of the metropolis, were particularly exposed to the merciless violence of the magistrates and soldiery. The soldiers came several successive First-days, with muskets, lighted matches, pikes, and halberts, conducted by an officer, with a drawn sword in one hand, and a cane in the other. They usually entered with violent rushing and uproar, to terrify the assembly, commanding the people to be gone; and then shamefully attacked both men and women with canes and clubs, threatening to fire at them, and even striking them with swords, and the butt-ends of their muskets, in such a manner that some fainted away, and others survived their injuries but a short time.