ook upon this as a
novelty, yet it was of such effect that many were convinced of the
truth.... And indeed he was one of those valiants, whose bow never
turned back ... nay he was such an excellent instrument in the hand of
God that even some mighty and eminent men were touched to the heart by
the power of the word of life which he preached' ... 'using few words
but preaching after a new fashion so that he was called a "son of
thunder and also of consolation."'

'Now I come also to the glorious exit of E. Burrough, that valiant
hero. For several years he had been very much in London, and had 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 Howgill, his bosom friend, "I can go freely 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 [1662] at Bristol, and thereabouts, and moved to return to
London, he said to many of his friends, when he took 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 among friends in that place."'[26]

Thus it befell that Edward Burrough was called to a more deadly
wrestling match than any in the pleasant London fields. He was thrown
into prison, and there he had to face a mortal foe in the gaol-fever
that was then raging in that noisome den. This was to wrestle in grim
earnest, with Death himself for an adversary; and in this wrestling
match Death was the conqueror.

Charles the Second was now on the throne. He knew and respected Edward
Burrough, and did his best to rescue him. Knowing the pestilential and
overcrowded state of Newgate at that time, the Merry Monarch, to his
lasting credit, sent a royal warrant for the release of Edward
Burrough and some of the other prisoners, when he heard of the danger
they were in from the foul state of the prison. But this order a
certain cruel and persecuting Alderman, named Richard Brown, and some
magistrates of the City of London contrived to thwart. The prisoners
remained in the gaol. Edward Burrough caught the fever, and grew
rapidly worse. On his death-bed he said, 'Lord, forgive Ri