Great Britain -- History -- Medieval period, 1066-1485
Moreover, when the Restoration came and the high pressure that had been
kept up in some states of society was suddenly taken off, there was a
frantic rage for pleasure, which included the wildest debauchery and
the most idiotic attempts at amusement. Then, too, the haste to be rich
agitated the minds of all classes; Westward ho! was the cry not only of
Pilgrim Fathers but of reckless adventurers of all kinds. From across
the sea came the ships of Tarshish bringing gold, and silver, and
ivory, and apes, and peacocks, and a thousand tales of El Dorado.
Muggleton the prophet, with that lank brown hair of his and the dreamy
eye and the resolute lips, waited unmoved. Pleasure? If he wondered at
anything it was to know what meaning there could be in the word.
Riches? What purpose could they serve? To him it seemed that the
Decalogue contained one wholly superfluous enactment; why should men
covet? There would have been some reason in limiting the number of the
commandments to nine; nine is the product of three times three. Think
of that! This man in that wicked age must have appeared to many a
standing miracle, if only for this reason, that he was the one man in
London who was content, passing his days in a stubborn rapture, as
little inclined for play or laughter as the sphinx in the desert, which
the sand storms can beat against but never stir.
So far from Muggleton's influence and authority growing less as he grew
older, it went on steadily increasing; there was a mystery and an awe
that gathered round him, and latterly he was regarded rather as an
inspired oracle than as a seer. The voice of prophecy ceased; he had
left his words on record for all future ages, but from day to day his
advice was asked, and people soon found it was worth listening to. In
the latter years of his life his letters dealt with the ordinary
affairs of men. People wrote to inquire about their matrimonial
affairs, their quarrels, their business difficulties, whether they must
conform to this or that enactment of the State, how they might outwit
the persecutors and skulk behind the law. Muggleton replies with
surprising shrewdness and good sense, and now and then exhibits a
familiarity with the quips and quirks of the law that he can only have
acquired by the necessity which suffering had laid upon him. His
language is always rugged, for he had received little or no education;
he is very unsafe in his grammar, but he has a plain, homely
vocabulary, forcible and copious, which, like most mystics, he was
compelled to enrich on occasion, and which he does not scruple to
enrich in his own way. His style certainly improves as he gets older,
and in these letters one meets now and then with passages that are
almost melodious, the sentences following one another in a kind of
plaintive rhythm, and sounding as you read them aloud, like a Gregorian
chant. He died of natural decay, the machine worn out. His last words
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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