arth whom this may
concern, being the Last Warning Peace at the Dreadful Day of
Judgment_. All discoverable copies of this book were to be burnt
by the hangman at three different places (February 1st, 1650);
and Coppe was imprisoned, but was released on his recantation of
his opinions. His book was the cause of that curious ordinance of
August 9th, 1650, for the "punishment of atheistical,
blasphemous, and execrable opinions," which is the best summary
and proof of the intense religious fanaticism then prevalent, and
so curiously similar in all its details to that of the primitive
Christian Church. At both periods the distinctive features were
the claim to actual divinity, and to superiority to all moral
laws.

On September 27th, 1650, Clarkson's _Single Eye: all Light, no
Darkness_, was condemned to be burnt by the hangman; and Clarkson
himself not only sent to the House of Correction for a month, but
sentenced to be banished after that for life under a penalty of
death if he returned.

These books have their value for students of human nature, and so
have the next I refer to, the works of Ludovic Muggleton, most of
which were written during this period, though not condemned to be
burnt till the year 1676, and which in other respects seem to
touch the lowest attainable depth of religious demoralisation.
The extraordinary thing is that Muggleton actually founded a sort
of religion of his own; at all events, he gave life and title to
a sect, which counts votaries to this day. Only so recently as
1846 a list of the works of Muggleton and his colleague Reeve was
published, and the books advertised for sale. These two men
claimed to be the two last witnesses or prophets, with power to
sentence men to eternal damnation or blessedness. Muggleton had a
decided preference for exercising the former power, especially in
regard to the Quakers, one of his books being called _A Looking
Glass for George Fox, the Quaker, and other Quakers, wherein they
may See Themselves to be Right Devils_. There is no reason to
believe Muggleton to have been a conscious impostor; only in an
age vexed to madness by religious controversy, religious madness
carried him further than others. An asylum would have met his
case better than the sentence of the Old Bailey, which condemned
him to stand for three days in the pillory at the three most
eminent places in the City, his books to be there in three lots
burnt over his head, and himself then to be