The Project Gutenberg eBook of Utopia, by Thomas More (2024)

INTRODUCTION

Sir Thomas More, son of Sir John More, a justice of the King’s Bench, wasborn in 1478, in Milk Street, in the city of London. After his earliereducation at St. Anthony’s School, in Threadneedle Street, he was placed,as a boy, in the household of Cardinal John Morton, Archbishop of Canterburyand Lord Chancellor. It was not unusual for persons of wealth or influence andsons of good families to be so established together in a relation of patron andclient. The youth wore his patron’s livery, and added to his state. Thepatron used, afterwards, his wealth or influence in helping his young clientforward in the world. Cardinal Morton had been in earlier days that Bishop ofEly whom Richard III. sent to the Tower; was busy afterwards in hostility toRichard; and was a chief adviser of Henry VII., who in 1486 made him Archbishopof Canterbury, and nine months afterwards Lord Chancellor. CardinalMorton—of talk at whose table there are recollections in“Utopia”—delighted in the quick wit of young Thomas More. Heonce said, “Whoever shall live to try it, shall see this child herewaiting at table prove a notable and rare man.”

At the age of about nineteen, Thomas More was sent to Canterbury College,Oxford, by his patron, where he learnt Greek of the first men who brought Greekstudies from Italy to England—William Grocyn and Thomas Linacre. Linacre,a physician, who afterwards took orders, was also the founder of the College ofPhysicians. In 1499, More left Oxford to study law in London, atLincoln’s Inn, and in the next year Archbishop Morton died.

More’s earnest character caused him while studying law to aim at thesubduing of the flesh, by wearing a hair shirt, taking a log for a pillow, andwhipping himself on Fridays. At the age of twenty-one he entered Parliament,and soon after he had been called to the bar he was made Under-Sheriff ofLondon. In 1503 he opposed in the House of Commons Henry VII.’s proposalfor a subsidy on account of the marriage portion of his daughter Margaret; andhe opposed with so much energy that the House refused to grant it. One went andtold the king that a beardless boy had disappointed all his expectations.During the last years, therefore, of Henry VII. More was under the displeasureof the king, and had thoughts of leaving the country.

Henry VII. died in April, 1509, when More’s age was a little over thirty.In the first years of the reign of Henry VIII. he rose to large practice in thelaw courts, where it is said he refused to plead in cases which he thoughtunjust, and took no fees from widows, orphans, or the poor. He would havepreferred marrying the second daughter of John Colt, of New Hall, in Essex, butchose her elder sister, that he might not subject her to the discredit of beingpassed over.

In 1513 Thomas More, still Under-Sheriff of London, is said to have written his“History of the Life and Death of King Edward V., and of the Usurpationof Richard III.” The book, which seems to contain the knowledge andopinions of More’s patron, Morton, was not printed until 1557, when itswriter had been twenty-two years dead. It was then printed from a MS. inMore’s handwriting.

In the year 1515 Wolsey, Archbishop of York, was made Cardinal by Leo X.; HenryVIII. made him Lord Chancellor, and from that year until 1523 the King and theCardinal ruled England with absolute authority, and called no parliament. InMay of the year 1515 Thomas More—not knighted yet—was joined in acommission to the Low Countries with Cuthbert Tunstal and others to confer withthe ambassadors of Charles V., then only Archduke of Austria, upon a renewal ofalliance. On that embassy More, aged about thirty-seven, was absent fromEngland for six months, and while at Antwerp he established friendship withPeter Giles (Latinised Ægidius), a scholarly and courteous young man, whowas secretary to the municipality of Antwerp.

Cuthbert Tunstal was a rising churchman, chancellor to the Archbishop ofCanterbury, who in that year (1515) was made Archdeacon of Chester, and in Mayof the next year (1516) Master of the Rolls. In 1516 he was sent again to theLow Countries, and More then went with him to Brussels, where they were inclose companionship with Erasmus.

More’s “Utopia” was written in Latin, and is in two parts, ofwhich the second, describing the place ([Greek text]—or Nusquama, as hecalled it sometimes in his letters—“Nowhere”), was probablywritten towards the close of 1515; the first part, introductory, early in 1516.The book was first printed at Louvain, late in 1516, under the editorship ofErasmus, Peter Giles, and other of More’s friends in Flanders. It wasthen revised by More, and printed by Frobenius at Basle in November, 1518. Itwas reprinted at Paris and Vienna, but was not printed in England duringMore’s lifetime. Its first publication in this country was in the Englishtranslation, made in Edward’s VI.’s reign (1551) by Ralph Robinson.It was translated with more literary skill by Gilbert Burnet, in 1684, soonafter he had conducted the defence of his friend Lord William Russell, attendedhis execution, vindicated his memory, and been spitefully deprived by James II.of his lectureship at St. Clement’s. Burnet was drawn to the translationof “Utopia” by the same sense of unreason in high places thatcaused More to write the book. Burnet’s is the translation given in thisvolume.

The name of the book has given an adjective to our language—we call animpracticable scheme Utopian. Yet, under the veil of a playful fiction, thetalk is intensely earnest, and abounds in practical suggestion. It is the workof a scholarly and witty Englishman, who attacks in his own way the chiefpolitical and social evils of his time. Beginning with fact, More tells how hewas sent into Flanders with Cuthbert Tunstal, “whom the king’smajesty of late, to the great rejoicing of all men, did prefer to the office ofMaster of the Rolls;” how the commissioners of Charles met them atBruges, and presently returned to Brussels for instructions; and how More thenwent to Antwerp, where he found a pleasure in the society of Peter Giles whichsoothed his desire to see again his wife and children, from whom he had beenfour months away. Then fact slides into fiction with the finding of RaphaelHythloday (whose name, made of two Greek words [Greek text] and [Greek text],means “knowing in trifles”), a man who had been with AmerigoVespucci in the three last of the voyages to the new world lately discovered,of which the account had been first printed in 1507, only nine years beforeUtopia was written.

Designedly fantastic in suggestion of details, “Utopia” is the workof a scholar who had read Plato’s “Republic,” and had hisfancy quickened after reading Plutarch’s account of Spartan life underLycurgus. Beneath the veil of an ideal communism, into which there has beenworked some witty extravagance, there lies a noble English argument. SometimesMore puts the case as of France when he means England. Sometimes there isironical praise of the good faith of Christian kings, saving the book fromcensure as a political attack on the policy of Henry VIII. Erasmus wrote to afriend in 1517 that he should send for More’s “Utopia,” if hehad not read it, and “wished to see the true source of all politicalevils.” And to More Erasmus wrote of his book, “A burgomaster ofAntwerp is so pleased with it that he knows it all by heart.”

H. M.

DISCOURSES OF RAPHAEL HYTHLODAY, OF THE BEST STATE OF A COMMONWEALTH

Henry VIII., the unconquered King of England, a prince adorned with all thevirtues that become a great monarch, having some differences of no smallconsequence with Charles the most serene Prince of Castile, sent me intoFlanders, as his ambassador, for treating and composing matters between them. Iwas colleague and companion to that incomparable man Cuthbert Tonstal, whom theKing, with such universal applause, lately made Master of the Rolls; but ofwhom I will say nothing; not because I fear that the testimony of a friend willbe suspected, but rather because his learning and virtues are too great for meto do them justice, and so well known, that they need not my commendations,unless I would, according to the proverb, “Show the sun with alantern.” Those that were appointed by the Prince to treat with us, metus at Bruges, according to agreement; they were all worthy men. The Margrave ofBruges was their head, and the chief man among them; but he that was esteemedthe wisest, and that spoke for the rest, was George Temse, the Provost ofCasselsee: both art and nature had concurred to make him eloquent: he was verylearned in the law; and, as he had a great capacity, so, by a long practice inaffairs, he was very dexterous at unravelling them. After we had several timesmet, without coming to an agreement, they went to Brussels for some days, toknow the Prince’s pleasure; and, since our business would admit it, Iwent to Antwerp. While I was there, among many that visited me, there was onethat was more acceptable to me than any other, Peter Giles, born at Antwerp,who is a man of great honour, and of a good rank in his town, though less thanhe deserves; for I do not know if there be anywhere to be found a more learnedand a better bred young man; for as he is both a very worthy and a very knowingperson, so he is so civil to all men, so particularly kind to his friends, andso full of candour and affection, that there is not, perhaps, above one or twoanywhere to be found, that is in all respects so perfect a friend: he isextraordinarily modest, there is no artifice in him, and yet no man has more ofa prudent simplicity. His conversation was so pleasant and so innocentlycheerful, that his company in a great measure lessened any longings to go backto my country, and to my wife and children, which an absence of four months hadquickened very much. One day, as I was returning home from mass at St.Mary’s, which is the chief church, and the most frequented of any inAntwerp, I saw him, by accident, talking with a stranger, who seemed past theflower of his age; his face was tanned, he had a long beard, and his cloak washanging carelessly about him, so that, by his looks and habit, I concluded hewas a seaman. As soon as Peter saw me, he came and saluted me, and as I wasreturning his civility, he took me aside, and pointing to him with whom he hadbeen discoursing, he said, “Do you see that man? I was just thinking tobring him to you.” I answered, “He should have been very welcome onyour account.” “And on his own too,” replied he, “ifyou knew the man, for there is none alive that can give so copious an accountof unknown nations and countries as he can do, which I know you very muchdesire.” “Then,” said I, “I did not guess amiss, for atfirst sight I took him for a seaman.” “But you are muchmistaken,” said he, “for he has not sailed as a seaman, but as atraveller, or rather a philosopher. This Raphael, who from his family carriesthe name of Hythloday, is not ignorant of the Latin tongue, but is eminentlylearned in the Greek, having applied himself more particularly to that than tothe former, because he had given himself much to philosophy, in which he knewthat the Romans have left us nothing that is valuable, except what is to befound in Seneca and Cicero. He is a Portuguese by birth, and was so desirous ofseeing the world, that he divided his estate among his brothers, ran the samehazard as Americus Vesputius, and bore a share in three of his four voyagesthat are now published; only he did not return with him in his last, butobtained leave of him, almost by force, that he might be one of thosetwenty-four who were left at the farthest place at which they touched in theirlast voyage to New Castile. The leaving him thus did not a little gratify onethat was more fond of travelling than of returning home to be buried in his owncountry; for he used often to say, that the way to heaven was the same from allplaces, and he that had no grave had the heavens still over him. Yet thisdisposition of mind had cost him dear, if God had not been very gracious tohim; for after he, with five Castalians, had travelled over many countries, atlast, by strange good fortune, he got to Ceylon, and from thence to Calicut,where he, very happily, found some Portuguese ships; and, beyond allmen’s expectations, returned to his native country.” When Peter hadsaid this to me, I thanked him for his kindness in intending to give me theacquaintance of a man whose conversation he knew would be so acceptable; andupon that Raphael and I embraced each other. After those civilities were pastwhich are usual with strangers upon their first meeting, we all went to myhouse, and entering into the garden, sat down on a green bank and entertainedone another in discourse. He told us that when Vesputius had sailed away, he,and his companions that stayed behind in New Castile, by degrees insinuatedthemselves into the affections of the people of the country, meeting often withthem and treating them gently; and at last they not only lived among themwithout danger, but conversed familiarly with them, and got so far into theheart of a prince, whose name and country I have forgot, that he both furnishedthem plentifully with all things necessary, and also with the conveniences oftravelling, both boats when they went by water, and waggons when they travelledover land: he sent with them a very faithful guide, who was to introduce andrecommend them to such other princes as they had a mind to see: and after manydays’ journey, they came to towns, and cities, and to commonwealths, thatwere both happily governed and well peopled. Under the equator, and as far onboth sides of it as the sun moves, there lay vast deserts that were parchedwith the perpetual heat of the sun; the soil was withered, all things lookeddismally, and all places were either quite uninhabited, or abounded with wildbeasts and serpents, and some few men, that were neither less wild nor lesscruel than the beasts themselves. But, as they went farther, a new sceneopened, all things grew milder, the air less burning, the soil more verdant,and even the beasts were less wild: and, at last, there were nations, towns,and cities, that had not only mutual commerce among themselves and with theirneighbours, but traded, both by sea and land, to very remote countries. Therethey found the conveniencies of seeing many countries on all hands, for no shipwent any voyage into which he and his companions were not very welcome. Thefirst vessels that they saw were flat-bottomed, their sails were made of reedsand wicker, woven close together, only some were of leather; but, afterwards,they found ships made with round keels and canvas sails, and in all respectslike our ships, and the seamen understood both astronomy and navigation. He gotwonderfully into their favour by showing them the use of the needle, of whichtill then they were utterly ignorant. They sailed before with great caution,and only in summer time; but now they count all seasons alike, trusting whollyto the loadstone, in which they are, perhaps, more secure than safe; so thatthere is reason to fear that this discovery, which was thought would prove somuch to their advantage, may, by their imprudence, become an occasion of muchmischief to them. But it were too long to dwell on all that he told us he hadobserved in every place, it would be too great a digression from our presentpurpose: whatever is necessary to be told concerning those wise and prudentinstitutions which he observed among civilised nations, may perhaps be relatedby us on a more proper occasion. We asked him many questions concerning allthese things, to which he answered very willingly; we made no inquiries aftermonsters, than which nothing is more common; for everywhere one may hear ofravenous dogs and wolves, and cruel men-eaters, but it is not so easy to findstates that are well and wisely governed.

As he told us of many things that were amiss in those new-discovered countries,so he reckoned up not a few things, from which patterns might be taken forcorrecting the errors of these nations among whom we live; of which an accountmay be given, as I have already promised, at some other time; for, at present,I intend only to relate those particulars that he told us, of the manners andlaws of the Utopians: but I will begin with the occasion that led us to speakof that commonwealth. After Raphael had discoursed with great judgment on themany errors that were both among us and these nations, had treated of the wiseinstitutions both here and there, and had spoken as distinctly of the customsand government of every nation through which he had past, as if he had spenthis whole life in it, Peter, being struck with admiration, said, “Iwonder, Raphael, how it comes that you enter into no king’s service, forI am sure there are none to whom you would not be very acceptable; for yourlearning and knowledge, both of men and things, is such, that you would notonly entertain them very pleasantly, but be of great use to them, by theexamples you could set before them, and the advices you could give them; and bythis means you would both serve your own interest, and be of great use to allyour friends.” “As for my friends,” answered he, “Ineed not be much concerned, having already done for them all that was incumbenton me; for when I was not only in good health, but fresh and young, Idistributed that among my kindred and friends which other people do not partwith till they are old and sick: when they then unwillingly give that whichthey can enjoy no longer themselves. I think my friends ought to rest contentedwith this, and not to expect that for their sakes I should enslave myself toany king whatsoever.” “Soft and fair!” said Peter; “Ido not mean that you should be a slave to any king, but only that you shouldassist them and be useful to them.” “The change of the word,”said he, “does not alter the matter.” “But term it as youwill,” replied Peter, “I do not see any other way in which you canbe so useful, both in private to your friends and to the public, and by whichyou can make your own condition happier.” “Happier?” answeredRaphael, “is that to be compassed in a way so abhorrent to my genius? NowI live as I will, to which I believe, few courtiers can pretend; and there areso many that court the favour of great men, that there will be no great loss ifthey are not troubled either with me or with others of my temper.” Uponthis, said I, “I perceive, Raphael, that you neither desire wealth norgreatness; and, indeed, I value and admire such a man much more than I do anyof the great men in the world. Yet I think you would do what would well becomeso generous and philosophical a soul as yours is, if you would apply your timeand thoughts to public affairs, even though you may happen to find it a littleuneasy to yourself; and this you can never do with so much advantage as bybeing taken into the council of some great prince and putting him on noble andworthy actions, which I know you would do if you were in such a post; for thesprings both of good and evil flow from the prince over a whole nation, as froma lasting fountain. So much learning as you have, even without practice inaffairs, or so great a practice as you have had, without any other learning,would render you a very fit counsellor to any king whatsoever.”“You are doubly mistaken,” said he, “Mr. More, both in youropinion of me and in the judgment you make of things: for as I have not thatcapacity that you fancy I have, so if I had it, the public would not be one jotthe better when I had sacrificed my quiet to it. For most princes applythemselves more to affairs of war than to the useful arts of peace; and inthese I neither have any knowledge, nor do I much desire it; they are generallymore set on acquiring new kingdoms, right or wrong, than on governing wellthose they possess: and, among the ministers of princes, there are none thatare not so wise as to need no assistance, or at least, that do not thinkthemselves so wise that they imagine they need none; and if they court any, itis only those for whom the prince has much personal favour, whom by theirfawning and flatteries they endeavour to fix to their own interests; and,indeed, nature has so made us, that we all love to be flattered and to pleaseourselves with our own notions: the old crow loves his young, and the ape hercubs. Now if in such a court, made up of persons who envy all others and onlyadmire themselves, a person should but propose anything that he had either readin history or observed in his travels, the rest would think that the reputationof their wisdom would sink, and that their interests would be much depressed ifthey could not run it down: and, if all other things failed, then they wouldfly to this, that such or such things pleased our ancestors, and it were wellfor us if we could but match them. They would set up their rest on such ananswer, as a sufficient confutation of all that could be said, as if it were agreat misfortune that any should be found wiser than his ancestors. But thoughthey willingly let go all the good things that were among those of former ages,yet, if better things are proposed, they cover themselves obstinately with thisexcuse of reverence to past times. I have met with these proud, morose, andabsurd judgments of things in many places, particularly once in England.”“Were you ever there?” said I. “Yes, I was,” answeredhe, “and stayed some months there, not long after the rebellion in theWest was suppressed, with a great slaughter of the poor people that wereengaged in it.

“I was then much obliged to that reverend prelate, John Morton,Archbishop of Canterbury, Cardinal, and Chancellor of England; a man,”said he, “Peter (for Mr. More knows well what he was), that was not lessvenerable for his wisdom and virtues than for the high character he bore: hewas of a middle stature, not broken with age; his looks begot reverence ratherthan fear; his conversation was easy, but serious and grave; he sometimes tookpleasure to try the force of those that came as suitors to him upon business byspeaking sharply, though decently, to them, and by that he discovered theirspirit and presence of mind; with which he was much delighted when it did notgrow up to impudence, as bearing a great resemblance to his own temper, and helooked on such persons as the fittest men for affairs. He spoke both gracefullyand weightily; he was eminently skilled in the law, had a vast understanding,and a prodigious memory; and those excellent talents with which nature hadfurnished him were improved by study and experience. When I was in England theKing depended much on his counsels, and the Government seemed to be chieflysupported by him; for from his youth he had been all along practised inaffairs; and, having passed through many traverses of fortune, he had, withgreat cost, acquired a vast stock of wisdom, which is not soon lost when it ispurchased so dear. One day, when I was dining with him, there happened to be attable one of the English lawyers, who took occasion to run out in a highcommendation of the severe execution of justice upon thieves,‘who,’ as he said, ‘were then hanged so fast that there weresometimes twenty on one gibbet!’ and, upon that, he said, ‘he couldnot wonder enough how it came to pass that, since so few escaped, there wereyet so many thieves left, who were still robbing in all places.’ Uponthis, I (who took the boldness to speak freely before the Cardinal) said,‘There was no reason to wonder at the matter, since this way of punishingthieves was neither just in itself nor good for the public; for, as theseverity was too great, so the remedy was not effectual; simple theft not beingso great a crime that it ought to cost a man his life; no punishment, howsevere soever, being able to restrain those from robbing who can find out noother way of livelihood. In this,’ said I, ‘not only you inEngland, but a great part of the world, imitate some ill masters, that arereadier to chastise their scholars than to teach them. There are dreadfulpunishments enacted against thieves, but it were much better to make such goodprovisions by which every man might be put in a method how to live, and so bepreserved from the fatal necessity of stealing and of dying for it.’‘There has been care enough taken for that,’ said he; ‘thereare many handicrafts, and there is husbandry, by which they may make a shift tolive, unless they have a greater mind to follow ill courses.’ ‘Thatwill not serve your turn,’ said I, ‘for many lose their limbs incivil or foreign wars, as lately in the Cornish rebellion, and some time ago inyour wars with France, who, being thus mutilated in the service of their kingand country, can no more follow their old trades, and are too old to learn newones; but since wars are only accidental things, and have intervals, let usconsider those things that fall out every day. There is a great number ofnoblemen among you that are themselves as idle as drones, that subsist on othermen’s labour, on the labour of their tenants, whom, to raise theirrevenues, they pare to the quick. This, indeed, is the only instance of theirfrugality, for in all other things they are prodigal, even to the beggaring ofthemselves; but, besides this, they carry about with them a great number ofidle fellows, who never learned any art by which they may gain their living;and these, as soon as either their lord dies, or they themselves fall sick, areturned out of doors; for your lords are readier to feed idle people than totake care of the sick; and often the heir is not able to keep together so greata family as his predecessor did. Now, when the stomachs of those that are thusturned out of doors grow keen, they rob no less keenly; and what else can theydo? For when, by wandering about, they have worn out both their health andtheir clothes, and are tattered, and look ghastly, men of quality will notentertain them, and poor men dare not do it, knowing that one who has been bredup in idleness and pleasure, and who was used to walk about with his sword andbuckler, despising all the neighbourhood with an insolent scorn as far belowhim, is not fit for the spade and mattock; nor will he serve a poor man for sosmall a hire and in so low a diet as he can afford to give him.’ To thishe answered, ‘This sort of men ought to be particularly cherished, for inthem consists the force of the armies for which we have occasion; since theirbirth inspires them with a nobler sense of honour than is to be found amongtradesmen or ploughmen.’ ‘You may as well say,’ replied I,‘that you must cherish thieves on the account of wars, for you will neverwant the one as long as you have the other; and as robbers prove sometimesgallant soldiers, so soldiers often prove brave robbers, so near an alliancethere is between those two sorts of life. But this bad custom, so common amongyou, of keeping many servants, is not peculiar to this nation. In France thereis yet a more pestiferous sort of people, for the whole country is full ofsoldiers, still kept up in time of peace (if such a state of a nation can becalled a peace); and these are kept in pay upon the same account that you pleadfor those idle retainers about noblemen: this being a maxim of those pretendedstatesmen, that it is necessary for the public safety to have a good body ofveteran soldiers ever in readiness. They think raw men are not to be dependedon, and they sometimes seek occasions for making war, that they may train uptheir soldiers in the art of cutting throats, or, as Sallust observed,“for keeping their hands in use, that they may not grow dull by too longan intermission.” But France has learned to its cost how dangerous it isto feed such beasts. The fate of the Romans, Carthaginians, and Syrians, andmany other nations and cities, which were both overturned and quite ruined bythose standing armies, should make others wiser; and the folly of this maxim ofthe French appears plainly even from this, that their trained soldiers oftenfind your raw men prove too hard for them, of which I will not say much, lestyou may think I flatter the English. Every day’s experience shows thatthe mechanics in the towns or the clowns in the country are not afraid offighting with those idle gentlemen, if they are not disabled by some misfortunein their body or dispirited by extreme want; so that you need not fear thatthose well-shaped and strong men (for it is only such that noblemen love tokeep about them till they spoil them), who now grow feeble with ease and aresoftened with their effeminate manner of life, would be less fit for action ifthey were well bred and well employed. And it seems very unreasonable that, forthe prospect of a war, which you need never have but when you please, youshould maintain so many idle men, as will always disturb you in time of peace,which is ever to be more considered than war. But I do not think that thisnecessity of stealing arises only from hence; there is another cause of it,more peculiar to England.’ ‘What is that?’ said the Cardinal:‘The increase of pasture,’ said I, ‘by which your sheep,which are naturally mild, and easily kept in order, may be said now to devourmen and unpeople, not only villages, but towns; for wherever it is found thatthe sheep of any soil yield a softer and richer wool than ordinary, there thenobility and gentry, and even those holy men, the abbots! not contented withthe old rents which their farms yielded, nor thinking it enough that they,living at their ease, do no good to the public, resolve to do it hurt insteadof good. They stop the course of agriculture, destroying houses and towns,reserving only the churches, and enclose grounds that they may lodge theirsheep in them. As if forests and parks had swallowed up too little of the land,those worthy countrymen turn the best inhabited places into solitudes; for whenan insatiable wretch, who is a plague to his country, resolves to enclose manythousand acres of ground, the owners, as well as tenants, are turned out oftheir possessions by trick or by main force, or, being wearied out by illusage, they are forced to sell them; by which means those miserable people,both men and women, married and unmarried, old and young, with their poor butnumerous families (since country business requires many hands), are all forcedto change their seats, not knowing whither to go; and they must sell, almostfor nothing, their household stuff, which could not bring them much money, eventhough they might stay for a buyer. When that little money is at an end (for itwill be soon spent), what is left for them to do but either to steal, and so tobe hanged (God knows how justly!), or to go about and beg? and if they do thisthey are put in prison as idle vagabonds, while they would willingly work butcan find none that will hire them; for there is no more occasion for countrylabour, to which they have been bred, when there is no arable ground left. Oneshepherd can look after a flock, which will stock an extent of ground thatwould require many hands if it were to be ploughed and reaped. This, likewise,in many places raises the price of corn. The price of wool is also so risenthat the poor people, who were wont to make cloth, are no more able to buy it;and this, likewise, makes many of them idle: for since the increase of pastureGod has punished the avarice of the owners by a rot among the sheep, which hasdestroyed vast numbers of them—to us it might have seemed more just hadit fell on the owners themselves. But, suppose the sheep should increase everso much, their price is not likely to fall; since, though they cannot be calleda monopoly, because they are not engrossed by one person, yet they are in sofew hands, and these are so rich, that, as they are not pressed to sell themsooner than they have a mind to it, so they never do it till they have raisedthe price as high as possible. And on the same account it is that the otherkinds of cattle are so dear, because many villages being pulled down, and allcountry labour being much neglected, there are none who make it their businessto breed them. The rich do not breed cattle as they do sheep, but buy them leanand at low prices; and, after they have fattened them on their grounds, sellthem again at high rates. And I do not think that all the inconveniences thiswill produce are yet observed; for, as they sell the cattle dear, so, if theyare consumed faster than the breeding countries from which they are brought canafford them, then the stock must decrease, and this must needs end in greatscarcity; and by these means, this your island, which seemed as to thisparticular the happiest in the world, will suffer much by the cursed avarice ofa few persons: besides this, the rising of corn makes all people lessen theirfamilies as much as they can; and what can those who are dismissed by them dobut either beg or rob? And to this last a man of a great mind is much soonerdrawn than to the former. Luxury likewise breaks in apace upon you to setforward your poverty and misery; there is an excessive vanity in apparel, andgreat cost in diet, and that not only in noblemen’s families, but evenamong tradesmen, among the farmers themselves, and among all ranks of persons.You have also many infamous houses, and, besides those that are known, thetaverns and ale-houses are no better; add to these dice, cards, tables,football, tennis, and quoits, in which money runs fast away; and those that areinitiated into them must, in the conclusion, betake themselves to robbing for asupply. Banish these plagues, and give orders that those who have dispeopled somuch soil may either rebuild the villages they have pulled down or let outtheir grounds to such as will do it; restrain those engrossings of the rich,that are as bad almost as monopolies; leave fewer occasions to idleness; letagriculture be set up again, and the manufacture of the wool be regulated, thatso there may be work found for those companies of idle people whom want forcesto be thieves, or who now, being idle vagabonds or useless servants, willcertainly grow thieves at last. If you do not find a remedy to these evils itis a vain thing to boast of your severity in punishing theft, which, though itmay have the appearance of justice, yet in itself is neither just norconvenient; for if you suffer your people to be ill-educated, and their mannersto be corrupted from their infancy, and then punish them for those crimes towhich their first education disposed them, what else is to be concluded fromthis but that you first make thieves and then punish them?’

“While I was talking thus, the Counsellor, who was present, had preparedan answer, and had resolved to resume all I had said, according to theformality of a debate, in which things are generally repeated more faithfullythan they are answered, as if the chief trial to be made were of men’smemories. ‘You have talked prettily, for a stranger,’ said he,‘having heard of many things among us which you have not been able toconsider well; but I will make the whole matter plain to you, and will firstrepeat in order all that you have said; then I will show how much yourignorance of our affairs has misled you; and will, in the last place, answerall your arguments. And, that I may begin where I promised, there were fourthings—’ ‘Hold your peace!’ said the Cardinal;‘this will take up too much time; therefore we will, at present, ease youof the trouble of answering, and reserve it to our next meeting, which shall beto-morrow, if Raphael’s affairs and yours can admit of it. But,Raphael,’ said he to me, ‘I would gladly know upon what reason itis that you think theft ought not to be punished by death: would you give wayto it? or do you propose any other punishment that will be more useful to thepublic? for, since death does not restrain theft, if men thought their liveswould be safe, what fear or force could restrain ill men? On the contrary, theywould look on the mitigation of the punishment as an invitation to commit morecrimes.’ I answered, ‘It seems to me a very unjust thing to takeaway a man’s life for a little money, for nothing in the world can be ofequal value with a man’s life: and if it be said, “that it is notfor the money that one suffers, but for his breaking the law,” I mustsay, extreme justice is an extreme injury: for we ought not to approve of thoseterrible laws that make the smallest offences capital, nor of that opinion ofthe Stoics that makes all crimes equal; as if there were no difference to bemade between the killing a man and the taking his purse, between which, if weexamine things impartially, there is no likeness nor proportion. God hascommanded us not to kill, and shall we kill so easily for a little money? Butif one shall say, that by that law we are only forbid to kill any except whenthe laws of the land allow of it, upon the same grounds, laws may be made, insome cases, to allow of adultery and perjury: for God having taken from us theright of disposing either of our own or of other people’s lives, if it ispretended that the mutual consent of men in making laws can authoriseman-slaughter in cases in which God has given us no example, that it freespeople from the obligation of the divine law, and so makes murder a lawfulaction, what is this, but to give a preference to human laws before the divine?and, if this is once admitted, by the same rule men may, in all other things,put what restrictions they please upon the laws of God. If, by the Mosaicallaw, though it was rough and severe, as being a yoke laid on an obstinate andservile nation, men were only fined, and not put to death for theft, we cannotimagine, that in this new law of mercy, in which God treats us with thetenderness of a father, He has given us a greater licence to cruelty than Hedid to the Jews. Upon these reasons it is, that I think putting thieves todeath is not lawful; and it is plain and obvious that it is absurd and of illconsequence to the commonwealth that a thief and a murderer should be equallypunished; for if a robber sees that his danger is the same if he is convictedof theft as if he were guilty of murder, this will naturally incite him to killthe person whom otherwise he would only have robbed; since, if the punishmentis the same, there is more security, and less danger of discovery, when he thatcan best make it is put out of the way; so that terrifying thieves too muchprovokes them to cruelty.

“But as to the question, ‘What more convenient way of punishmentcan be found?’ I think it much easier to find out that than to inventanything that is worse; why should we doubt but the way that was so long in useamong the old Romans, who understood so well the arts of government, was veryproper for their punishment? They condemned such as they found guilty of greatcrimes to work their whole lives in quarries, or to dig in mines with chainsabout them. But the method that I liked best was that which I observed in mytravels in Persia, among the Polylerits, who are a considerable andwell-governed people: they pay a yearly tribute to the King of Persia, but inall other respects they are a free nation, and governed by their own laws: theylie far from the sea, and are environed with hills; and, being contented withthe productions of their own country, which is very fruitful, they have littlecommerce with any other nation; and as they, according to the genius of theircountry, have no inclination to enlarge their borders, so their mountains andthe pension they pay to the Persian, secure them from all invasions. Thus theyhave no wars among them; they live rather conveniently than with splendour, andmay be rather called a happy nation than either eminent or famous; for I do notthink that they are known, so much as by name, to any but their nextneighbours. Those that are found guilty of theft among them are bound to makerestitution to the owner, and not, as it is in other places, to the prince, forthey reckon that the prince has no more right to the stolen goods than thethief; but if that which was stolen is no more in being, then the goods of thethieves are estimated, and restitution being made out of them, the remainder isgiven to their wives and children; and they themselves are condemned to servein the public works, but are neither imprisoned nor chained, unless therehappens to be some extraordinary circ*mstance in their crimes. They go aboutloose and free, working for the public: if they are idle or backward to workthey are whipped, but if they work hard they are well used and treated withoutany mark of reproach; only the lists of them are called always at night, andthen they are shut up. They suffer no other uneasiness but this of constantlabour; for, as they work for the public, so they are well entertained out ofthe public stock, which is done differently in different places: in some placeswhatever is bestowed on them is raised by a charitable contribution; and,though this way may seem uncertain, yet so merciful are the inclinations ofthat people, that they are plentifully supplied by it; but in other placespublic revenues are set aside for them, or there is a constant tax orpoll-money raised for their maintenance. In some places they are set to nopublic work, but every private man that has occasion to hire workmen goes tothe market-places and hires them of the public, a little lower than he would doa freeman. If they go lazily about their task he may quicken them with thewhip. By this means there is always some piece of work or other to be done bythem; and, besides their livelihood, they earn somewhat still to the public.They all wear a peculiar habit, of one certain colour, and their hair iscropped a little above their ears, and a piece of one of their ears is cut off.Their friends are allowed to give them either meat, drink, or clothes, so theyare of their proper colour; but it is death, both to the giver and taker, ifthey give them money; nor is it less penal for any freeman to take money fromthem upon any account whatsoever: and it is also death for any of these slaves(so they are called) to handle arms. Those of every division of the country aredistinguished by a peculiar mark, which it is capital for them to lay aside, togo out of their bounds, or to talk with a slave of another jurisdiction, andthe very attempt of an escape is no less penal than an escape itself. It isdeath for any other slave to be accessory to it; and if a freeman engages in ithe is condemned to slavery. Those that discover it are rewarded—iffreemen, in money; and if slaves, with liberty, together with a pardon forbeing accessory to it; that so they might find their account rather inrepenting of their engaging in such a design than in persisting in it.

“These are their laws and rules in relation to robbery, and it is obviousthat they are as advantageous as they are mild and gentle; since vice is notonly destroyed and men preserved, but they are treated in such a manner as tomake them see the necessity of being honest and of employing the rest of theirlives in repairing the injuries they had formerly done to society. Nor is thereany hazard of their falling back to their old customs; and so little dotravellers apprehend mischief from them that they generally make use of themfor guides from one jurisdiction to another; for there is nothing left them bywhich they can rob or be the better for it, since, as they are disarmed, so thevery having of money is a sufficient conviction: and as they are certainlypunished if discovered, so they cannot hope to escape; for their habit being inall the parts of it different from what is commonly worn, they cannot fly away,unless they would go naked, and even then their cropped ear would betray them.The only danger to be feared from them is their conspiring against thegovernment; but those of one division and neighbourhood can do nothing to anypurpose unless a general conspiracy were laid amongst all the slaves of theseveral jurisdictions, which cannot be done, since they cannot meet or talktogether; nor will any venture on a design where the concealment would be sodangerous and the discovery so profitable. None are quite hopeless ofrecovering their freedom, since by their obedience and patience, and by givinggood grounds to believe that they will change their manner of life for thefuture, they may expect at last to obtain their liberty, and some are everyyear restored to it upon the good character that is given of them. When I hadrelated all this, I added that I did not see why such a method might not befollowed with more advantage than could ever be expected from that severejustice which the Counsellor magnified so much. To this he answered,‘That it could never take place in England without endangering the wholenation.’ As he said this he shook his head, made some grimaces, and heldhis peace, while all the company seemed of his opinion, except the Cardinal,who said, ‘That it was not easy to form a judgment of its success, sinceit was a method that never yet had been tried; but if,’ said he,‘when sentence of death were passed upon a thief, the prince wouldreprieve him for a while, and make the experiment upon him, denying him theprivilege of a sanctuary; and then, if it had a good effect upon him, it mighttake place; and, if it did not succeed, the worst would be to execute thesentence on the condemned persons at last; and I do not see,’ added he,‘why it would be either unjust, inconvenient, or at all dangerous toadmit of such a delay; in my opinion the vagabonds ought to be treated in thesame manner, against whom, though we have made many laws, yet we have not beenable to gain our end.’ When the Cardinal had done, they all commended themotion, though they had despised it when it came from me, but more particularlycommended what related to the vagabonds, because it was his own observation.

“I do not know whether it be worth while to tell what followed, for itwas very ridiculous; but I shall venture at it, for as it is not foreign tothis matter, so some good use may be made of it. There was a Jester standingby, that counterfeited the fool so naturally that he seemed to be really one;the jests which he offered were so cold and dull that we laughed more at himthan at them, yet sometimes he said, as it were by chance, things that were notunpleasant, so as to justify the old proverb, ‘That he who throws thedice often, will sometimes have a lucky hit.’ When one of the company hadsaid that I had taken care of the thieves, and the Cardinal had taken care ofthe vagabonds, so that there remained nothing but that some public provisionmight be made for the poor whom sickness or old age had disabled from labour,‘Leave that to me,’ said the Fool, ‘and I shall take care ofthem, for there is no sort of people whose sight I abhor more, having been sooften vexed with them and with their sad complaints; but as dolefully soever asthey have told their tale, they could never prevail so far as to draw one pennyfrom me; for either I had no mind to give them anything, or, when I had a mindto do it, I had nothing to give them; and they now know me so well that theywill not lose their labour, but let me pass without giving me any trouble,because they hope for nothing—no more, in faith, than if I were a priest;but I would have a law made for sending all these beggars to monasteries, themen to the Benedictines, to be made lay-brothers, and the women to benuns.’ The Cardinal smiled, and approved of it in jest, but the restliked it in earnest. There was a divine present, who, though he was a gravemorose man, yet he was so pleased with this reflection that was made on thepriests and the monks that he began to play with the Fool, and said to him,‘This will not deliver you from all beggars, except you take care of usFriars.’ ‘That is done already,’ answered the Fool,‘for the Cardinal has provided for you by what he proposed forrestraining vagabonds and setting them to work, for I know no vagabonds likeyou.’ This was well entertained by the whole company, who, looking at theCardinal, perceived that he was not ill-pleased at it; only the Friar himselfwas vexed, as may be easily imagined, and fell into such a passion that hecould not forbear railing at the Fool, and calling him knave, slanderer,backbiter, and son of perdition, and then cited some dreadful threatenings outof the Scriptures against him. Now the Jester thought he was in his element,and laid about him freely. ‘Good Friar,’ said he, ‘be notangry, for it is written, “In patience possess your soul.”’The Friar answered (for I shall give you his own words), ‘I am not angry,you hangman; at least, I do not sin in it, for the Psalmist says, “Be yeangry and sin not.”’ Upon this the Cardinal admonished him gently,and wished him to govern his passions. ‘No, my lord,’ said he,‘I speak not but from a good zeal, which I ought to have, for holy menhave had a good zeal, as it is said, “The zeal of thy house hath eaten meup;” and we sing in our church that those who mocked Elisha as he went upto the house of God felt the effects of his zeal, which that mocker, thatrogue, that scoundrel, will perhaps feel.’ ‘You do this, perhaps,with a good intention,’ said the Cardinal, ‘but, in my opinion, itwere wiser in you, and perhaps better for you, not to engage in so ridiculous acontest with a Fool.’ ‘No, my lord,’ answered he, ‘thatwere not wisely done, for Solomon, the wisest of men, said, “Answer aFool according to his folly,” which I now do, and show him the ditch intowhich he will fall, if he is not aware of it; for if the many mockers ofElisha, who was but one bald man, felt the effect of his zeal, what will becomeof the mocker of so many Friars, among whom there are so many bald men? Wehave, likewise, a bull, by which all that jeer us are excommunicated.’When the Cardinal saw that there was no end of this matter he made a sign tothe Fool to withdraw, turned the discourse another way, and soon after rosefrom the table, and, dismissing us, went to hear causes.

“Thus, Mr. More, I have run out into a tedious story, of the length ofwhich I had been ashamed, if (as you earnestly begged it of me) I had notobserved you to hearken to it as if you had no mind to lose any part of it. Imight have contracted it, but I resolved to give it you at large, that youmight observe how those that despised what I had proposed, no sooner perceivedthat the Cardinal did not dislike it but presently approved of it, fawned so onhim and flattered him to such a degree, that they in good earnest applaudedthose things that he only liked in jest; and from hence you may gather howlittle courtiers would value either me or my counsels.”

To this I answered, “You have done me a great kindness in this relation;for as everything has been related by you both wisely and pleasantly, so youhave made me imagine that I was in my own country and grown young again, byrecalling that good Cardinal to my thoughts, in whose family I was bred from mychildhood; and though you are, upon other accounts, very dear to me, yet youare the dearer because you honour his memory so much; but, after all this, Icannot change my opinion, for I still think that if you could overcome thataversion which you have to the courts of princes, you might, by the advicewhich it is in your power to give, do a great deal of good to mankind, and thisis the chief design that every good man ought to propose to himself in living;for your friend Plato thinks that nations will be happy when eitherphilosophers become kings or kings become philosophers. It is no wonder if weare so far from that happiness while philosophers will not think it their dutyto assist kings with their counsels.” “They are not sobase-minded,” said he, “but that they would willingly do it; manyof them have already done it by their books, if those that are in power wouldbut hearken to their good advice. But Plato judged right, that except kingsthemselves became philosophers, they who from their childhood are corruptedwith false notions would never fall in entirely with the counsels ofphilosophers, and this he himself found to be true in the person of Dionysius.

“Do not you think that if I were about any king, proposing good laws tohim, and endeavouring to root out all the cursed seeds of evil that I found inhim, I should either be turned out of his court, or, at least, be laughed atfor my pains? For instance, what could I signify if I were about the King ofFrance, and were called into his cabinet council, where several wise men, inhis hearing, were proposing many expedients; as, by what arts and practicesMilan may be kept, and Naples, that has so often slipped out of their hands,recovered; how the Venetians, and after them the rest of Italy, may be subdued;and then how Flanders, Brabant, and all Burgundy, and some other kingdoms whichhe has swallowed already in his designs, may be added to his empire? Oneproposes a league with the Venetians, to be kept as long as he finds hisaccount in it, and that he ought to communicate counsels with them, and givethem some share of the spoil till his success makes him need or fear them less,and then it will be easily taken out of their hands; another proposes thehiring the Germans and the securing the Switzers by pensions; another proposesthe gaining the Emperor by money, which is omnipotent with him; anotherproposes a peace with the King of Arragon, and, in order to cement it, theyielding up the King of Navarre’s pretensions; another thinks that thePrince of Castile is to be wrought on by the hope of an alliance, and that someof his courtiers are to be gained to the French faction by pensions. Thehardest point of all is, what to do with England; a treaty of peace is to beset on foot, and, if their alliance is not to be depended on, yet it is to bemade as firm as possible, and they are to be called friends, but suspected asenemies: therefore the Scots are to be kept in readiness to be let loose uponEngland on every occasion; and some banished nobleman is to be supportedunderhand (for by the League it cannot be done avowedly) who has a pretensionto the crown, by which means that suspected prince may be kept in awe. Now whenthings are in so great a fermentation, and so many gallant men are joiningcounsels how to carry on the war, if so mean a man as I should stand up andwish them to change all their counsels—to let Italy alone and stay athome, since the kingdom of France was indeed greater than could be wellgoverned by one man; that therefore he ought not to think of adding others toit; and if, after this, I should propose to them the resolutions of theAchorians, a people that lie on the south-east of Utopia, who long ago engagedin war in order to add to the dominions of their prince another kingdom, towhich he had some pretensions by an ancient alliance: this they conquered, butfound that the trouble of keeping it was equal to that by which it was gained;that the conquered people were always either in rebellion or exposed to foreigninvasions, while they were obliged to be incessantly at war, either for oragainst them, and consequently could never disband their army; that in themeantime they were oppressed with taxes, their money went out of the kingdom,their blood was spilt for the glory of their king without procuring the leastadvantage to the people, who received not the smallest benefit from it even intime of peace; and that, their manners being corrupted by a long war, robberyand murders everywhere abounded, and their laws fell into contempt; while theirking, distracted with the care of two kingdoms, was the less able to apply hismind to the interest of either. When they saw this, and that there would be noend to these evils, they by joint counsels made an humble address to theirking, desiring him to choose which of the two kingdoms he had the greatest mindto keep, since he could not hold both; for they were too great a people to begoverned by a divided king, since no man would willingly have a groom thatshould be in common between him and another. Upon which the good prince wasforced to quit his new kingdom to one of his friends (who was not long afterdethroned), and to be contented with his old one. To this I would add thatafter all those warlike attempts, the vast confusions, and the consumption bothof treasure and of people that must follow them, perhaps upon some misfortunethey might be forced to throw up all at last; therefore it seemed much moreeligible that the king should improve his ancient kingdom all he could, andmake it flourish as much as possible; that he should love his people, and bebeloved of them; that he should live among them, govern them gently and letother kingdoms alone, since that which had fallen to his share was big enough,if not too big, for him:—pray, how do you think would such a speech asthis be heard?”

“I confess,” said I, “I think not very well.”

“But what,” said he, “if I should sort with another kind ofministers, whose chief contrivances and consultations were by what art theprince’s treasures might be increased? where one proposes raising thevalue of specie when the king’s debts are large, and lowering it when hisrevenues were to come in, that so he might both pay much with a little, and ina little receive a great deal. Another proposes a pretence of a war, that moneymight be raised in order to carry it on, and that a peace be concluded as soonas that was done; and this with such appearances of religion as might work onthe people, and make them impute it to the piety of their prince, and to histenderness for the lives of his subjects. A third offers some old musty lawsthat have been antiquated by a long disuse (and which, as they had beenforgotten by all the subjects, so they had also been broken by them), andproposes the levying the penalties of these laws, that, as it would bring in avast treasure, so there might be a very good pretence for it, since it wouldlook like the executing a law and the doing of justice. A fourth proposes theprohibiting of many things under severe penalties, especially such as wereagainst the interest of the people, and then the dispensing with theseprohibitions, upon great compositions, to those who might find their advantagein breaking them. This would serve two ends, both of them acceptable to many;for as those whose avarice led them to transgress would be severely fined, sothe selling licences dear would look as if a prince were tender of his people,and would not easily, or at low rates, dispense with anything that might beagainst the public good. Another proposes that the judges must be made sure,that they may declare always in favour of the prerogative; that they must beoften sent for to court, that the king may hear them argue those points inwhich he is concerned; since, how unjust soever any of his pretensions may be,yet still some one or other of them, either out of contradiction to others, orthe pride of singularity, or to make their court, would find out some pretenceor other to give the king a fair colour to carry the point. For if the judgesbut differ in opinion, the clearest thing in the world is made by that meansdisputable, and truth being once brought in question, the king may then takeadvantage to expound the law for his own profit; while the judges that standout will be brought over, either through fear or modesty; and they being thusgained, all of them may be sent to the Bench to give sentence boldly as theking would have it; for fair pretences will never be wanting when sentence isto be given in the prince’s favour. It will either be said that equitylies of his side, or some words in the law will be found sounding that way, orsome forced sense will be put on them; and, when all other things fail, theking’s undoubted prerogative will be pretended, as that which is aboveall law, and to which a religious judge ought to have a special regard. Thusall consent to that maxim of Crassus, that a prince cannot have treasureenough, since he must maintain his armies out of it; that a king, even thoughhe would, can do nothing unjustly; that all property is in him, not exceptingthe very persons of his subjects; and that no man has any other property butthat which the king, out of his goodness, thinks fit to leave him. And theythink it is the prince’s interest that there be as little of this left asmay be, as if it were his advantage that his people should have neither richesnor liberty, since these things make them less easy and willing to submit to acruel and unjust government. Whereas necessity and poverty blunts them, makesthem patient, beats them down, and breaks that height of spirit that mightotherwise dispose them to rebel. Now what if, after all these propositions weremade, I should rise up and assert that such counsels were both unbecoming aking and mischievous to him; and that not only his honour, but his safety,consisted more in his people’s wealth than in his own; if I should showthat they choose a king for their own sake, and not for his; that, by his careand endeavours, they may be both easy and safe; and that, therefore, a princeought to take more care of his people’s happiness than of his own, as ashepherd is to take more care of his flock than of himself? It is also certainthat they are much mistaken that think the poverty of a nation is a means ofthe public safety. Who quarrel more than beggars? who does more earnestly longfor a change than he that is uneasy in his present circ*mstances? and who runto create confusions with so desperate a boldness as those who, having nothingto lose, hope to gain by them? If a king should fall under such contempt orenvy that he could not keep his subjects in their duty but by oppression andill usage, and by rendering them poor and miserable, it were certainly betterfor him to quit his kingdom than to retain it by such methods as make him,while he keeps the name of authority, lose the majesty due to it. Nor is it sobecoming the dignity of a king to reign over beggars as over rich and happysubjects. And therefore Fabricius, a man of a noble and exalted temper, said‘he would rather govern rich men than be rich himself; since for one manto abound in wealth and pleasure when all about him are mourning and groaning,is to be a gaoler and not a king.’ He is an unskilful physician thatcannot cure one disease without casting his patient into another. So he thatcan find no other way for correcting the errors of his people but by takingfrom them the conveniences of life, shows that he knows not what it is togovern a free nation. He himself ought rather to shake off his sloth, or to laydown his pride, for the contempt or hatred that his people have for him takesits rise from the vices in himself. Let him live upon what belongs to himwithout wronging others, and accommodate his expense to his revenue. Let himpunish crimes, and, by his wise conduct, let him endeavour to prevent them,rather than be severe when he has suffered them to be too common. Let him notrashly revive laws that are abrogated by disuse, especially if they have beenlong forgotten and never wanted. And let him never take any penalty for thebreach of them to which a judge would not give way in a private man, but wouldlook on him as a crafty and unjust person for pretending to it. To these thingsI would add that law among the Macarians—a people that live not far fromUtopia—by which their king, on the day on which he began to reign, istied by an oath, confirmed by solemn sacrifices, never to have at once above athousand pounds of gold in his treasures, or so much silver as is equal to thatin value. This law, they tell us, was made by an excellent king who had moreregard to the riches of his country than to his own wealth, and thereforeprovided against the heaping up of so much treasure as might impoverish thepeople. He thought that moderate sum might be sufficient for any accident, ifeither the king had occasion for it against the rebels, or the kingdom againstthe invasion of an enemy; but that it was not enough to encourage a prince toinvade other men’s rights—a circ*mstance that was the chief causeof his making that law. He also thought that it was a good provision for thatfree circulation of money so necessary for the course of commerce and exchange.And when a king must distribute all those extraordinary accessions thatincrease treasure beyond the due pitch, it makes him less disposed to oppresshis subjects. Such a king as this will be the terror of ill men, and will bebeloved by all the good.

“If, I say, I should talk of these or such-like things to men that hadtaken their bias another way, how deaf would they be to all I could say!”“No doubt, very deaf,” answered I; “and no wonder, for one isnever to offer propositions or advice that we are certain will not beentertained. Discourses so much out of the road could not avail anything, norhave any effect on men whose minds were prepossessed with different sentiments.This philosophical way of speculation is not unpleasant among friends in a freeconversation; but there is no room for it in the courts of princes, where greataffairs are carried on by authority.” “That is what I wassaying,” replied he, “that there is no room for philosophy in thecourts of princes.” “Yes, there is,” said I, “but notfor this speculative philosophy, that makes everything to be alike fitting atall times; but there is another philosophy that is more pliable, that knows itsproper scene, accommodates itself to it, and teaches a man with propriety anddecency to act that part which has fallen to his share. If when one ofPlautus’ comedies is upon the stage, and a company of servants are actingtheir parts, you should come out in the garb of a philosopher, and repeat, outof Octavia, a discourse of Seneca’s to Nero, would it not bebetter for you to say nothing than by mixing things of such different naturesto make an impertinent tragi-comedy? for you spoil and corrupt the play that isin hand when you mix with it things of an opposite nature, even though they aremuch better. Therefore go through with the play that is acting the best youcan, and do not confound it because another that is pleasanter comes into yourthoughts. It is even so in a commonwealth and in the councils of princes; ifill opinions cannot be quite rooted out, and you cannot cure some received viceaccording to your wishes, you must not, therefore, abandon the commonwealth,for the same reasons as you should not forsake the ship in a storm because youcannot command the winds. You are not obliged to assault people with discoursesthat are out of their road, when you see that their received notions mustprevent your making an impression upon them: you ought rather to cast about andto manage things with all the dexterity in your power, so that, if you are notable to make them go well, they may be as little ill as possible; for, exceptall men were good, everything cannot be right, and that is a blessing that I donot at present hope to see.” “According to your argument,”answered he, “all that I could be able to do would be to preserve myselffrom being mad while I endeavoured to cure the madness of others; for, if Ispeak truth, I must repeat what I have said to you; and as for lying, whether aphilosopher can do it or not I cannot tell: I am sure I cannot do it. Butthough these discourses may be uneasy and ungrateful to them, I do not see whythey should seem foolish or extravagant; indeed, if I should either proposesuch things as Plato has contrived in his ‘Commonwealth,’ or as theUtopians practise in theirs, though they might seem better, as certainly theyare, yet they are so different from our establishment, which is founded onproperty (there being no such thing among them), that I could not expect thatit would have any effect on them. But such discourses as mine, which only callpast evils to mind and give warning of what may follow, leave nothing in themthat is so absurd that they may not be used at any time, for they can only beunpleasant to those who are resolved to run headlong the contrary way; and ifwe must let alone everything as absurd or extravagant—which, by reason ofthe wicked lives of many, may seem uncouth—we must, even amongChristians, give over pressing the greatest part of those things that Christhath taught us, though He has commanded us not to conceal them, but to proclaimon the housetops that which He taught in secret. The greatest parts of Hisprecepts are more opposite to the lives of the men of this age than any part ofmy discourse has been, but the preachers seem to have learned that craft towhich you advise me: for they, observing that the world would not willinglysuit their lives to the rules that Christ has given, have fitted His doctrine,as if it had been a leaden rule, to their lives, that so, some way or other,they might agree with one another. But I see no other effect of this complianceexcept it be that men become more secure in their wickedness by it; and this isall the success that I can have in a court, for I must always differ from therest, and then I shall signify nothing; or, if I agree with them, I shall thenonly help forward their madness. I do not comprehend what you mean by your‘casting about,’ or by ‘the bending and handling things sodexterously that, if they go not well, they may go as little ill as maybe;’ for in courts they will not bear with a man’s holding hispeace or conniving at what others do: a man must barefacedly approve of theworst counsels and consent to the blackest designs: so that he would pass for aspy, or, possibly, for a traitor, that did but coldly approve of such wickedpractices; and therefore when a man is engaged in such a society, he will be sofar from being able to mend matters by his ‘casting about,’ as youcall it, that he will find no occasions of doing any good—the ill companywill sooner corrupt him than be the better for him; or if, notwithstanding alltheir ill company, he still remains steady and innocent, yet their follies andknavery will be imputed to him; and, by mixing counsels with them, he must bearhis share of all the blame that belongs wholly to others.

“It was no ill simile by which Plato set forth the unreasonableness of aphilosopher’s meddling with government. ‘If a man,’ says he,‘were to see a great company run out every day into the rain and takedelight in being wet—if he knew that it would be to no purpose for him togo and persuade them to return to their houses in order to avoid the storm, andthat all that could be expected by his going to speak to them would be that hehimself should be as wet as they, it would be best for him to keep withindoors, and, since he had not influence enough to correct other people’sfolly, to take care to preserve himself.’

“Though, to speak plainly my real sentiments, I must freely own that aslong as there is any property, and while money is the standard of all otherthings, I cannot think that a nation can be governed either justly or happily:not justly, because the best things will fall to the share of the worst men;nor happily, because all things will be divided among a few (and even these arenot in all respects happy), the rest being left to be absolutely miserable.Therefore, when I reflect on the wise and good constitution of the Utopians,among whom all things are so well governed and with so few laws, where virtuehath its due reward, and yet there is such an equality that every man lives inplenty—when I compare with them so many other nations that are stillmaking new laws, and yet can never bring their constitution to a rightregulation; where, notwithstanding every one has his property, yet all the lawsthat they can invent have not the power either to obtain or preserve it, oreven to enable men certainly to distinguish what is their own from what isanother’s, of which the many lawsuits that every day break out, and areeternally depending, give too plain a demonstration—when, I say, Ibalance all these things in my thoughts, I grow more favourable to Plato, anddo not wonder that he resolved not to make any laws for such as would notsubmit to a community of all things; for so wise a man could not but foreseethat the setting all upon a level was the only way to make a nation happy;which cannot be obtained so long as there is property, for when every man drawsto himself all that he can compass, by one title or another, it must needsfollow that, how plentiful soever a nation may be, yet a few dividing thewealth of it among themselves, the rest must fall into indigence. So that therewill be two sorts of people among them, who deserve that their fortunes shouldbe interchanged—the former useless, but wicked and ravenous; and thelatter, who by their constant industry serve the public more than themselves,sincere and modest men—from whence I am persuaded that till property istaken away, there can be no equitable or just distribution of things, nor canthe world be happily governed; for as long as that is maintained, the greatestand the far best part of mankind, will be still oppressed with a load of caresand anxieties. I confess, without taking it quite away, those pressures thatlie on a great part of mankind may be made lighter, but they can never be quiteremoved; for if laws were made to determine at how great an extent in soil, andat how much money, every man must stop—to limit the prince, that he mightnot grow too great; and to restrain the people, that they might not become tooinsolent—and that none might factiously aspire to public employments,which ought neither to be sold nor made burdensome by a great expense, sinceotherwise those that serve in them would be tempted to reimburse themselves bycheats and violence, and it would become necessary to find out rich men forundergoing those employments, which ought rather to be trusted to the wise.These laws, I say, might have such effect as good diet and care might have on asick man whose recovery is desperate; they might allay and mitigate thedisease, but it could never be quite healed, nor the body politic be broughtagain to a good habit as long as property remains; and it will fall out, as ina complication of diseases, that by applying a remedy to one sore you willprovoke another, and that which removes the one ill symptom produces others,while the strengthening one part of the body weakens the rest.” “Onthe contrary,” answered I, “it seems to me that men cannot liveconveniently where all things are common. How can there be any plenty whereevery man will excuse himself from labour? for as the hope of gain doth notexcite him, so the confidence that he has in other men’s industry maymake him slothful. If people come to be pinched with want, and yet cannotdispose of anything as their own, what can follow upon this but perpetualsedition and bloodshed, especially when the reverence and authority due tomagistrates falls to the ground? for I cannot imagine how that can be kept upamong those that are in all things equal to one another.” “I do notwonder,” said he, “that it appears so to you, since you have nonotion, or at least no right one, of such a constitution; but if you had beenin Utopia with me, and had seen their laws and rules, as I did, for the spaceof five years, in which I lived among them, and during which time I was sodelighted with them that indeed I should never have left them if it had notbeen to make the discovery of that new world to the Europeans, you would thenconfess that you had never seen a people so well constituted as they.”“You will not easily persuade me,” said Peter, “that anynation in that new world is better governed than those among us; for as ourunderstandings are not worse than theirs, so our government (if I mistake not)being more ancient, a long practice has helped us to find out many conveniencesof life, and some happy chances have discovered other things to us which noman’s understanding could ever have invented.” “As for theantiquity either of their government or of ours,” said he, “youcannot pass a true judgment of it unless you had read their histories; for, ifthey are to be believed, they had towns among them before these parts were somuch as inhabited; and as for those discoveries that have been either hit on bychance or made by ingenious men, these might have happened there as well ashere. I do not deny but we are more ingenious than they are, but they exceed usmuch in industry and application. They knew little concerning us before ourarrival among them. They call us all by a general name of ‘The nationsthat lie beyond the equinoctial line;’ for their chronicle mentions ashipwreck that was made on their coast twelve hundred years ago, and that someRomans and Egyptians that were in the ship, getting safe ashore, spent the restof their days amongst them; and such was their ingenuity that from this singleopportunity they drew the advantage of learning from those unlooked-for guests,and acquired all the useful arts that were then among the Romans, and whichwere known to these shipwrecked men; and by the hints that they gave them theythemselves found out even some of those arts which they could not fullyexplain, so happily did they improve that accident of having some of our peoplecast upon their shore. But if such an accident has at any time brought any fromthence into Europe, we have been so far from improving it that we do not somuch as remember it, as, in aftertimes perhaps, it will be forgot by our peoplethat I was ever there; for though they, from one such accident, made themselvesmasters of all the good inventions that were among us, yet I believe it wouldbe long before we should learn or put in practice any of the good institutionsthat are among them. And this is the true cause of their being better governedand living happier than we, though we come not short of them in point ofunderstanding or outward advantages.” Upon this I said to him, “Iearnestly beg you would describe that island very particularly to us; be nottoo short, but set out in order all things relating to their soil, theirrivers, their towns, their people, their manners, constitution, laws, and, in aword, all that you imagine we desire to know; and you may well imagine that wedesire to know everything concerning them of which we are hithertoignorant.” “I will do it very willingly,” said he, “forI have digested the whole matter carefully, but it will take up sometime.” “Let us go, then,” said I, “first and dine, andthen we shall have leisure enough.” He consented; we went in and dined,and after dinner came back and sat down in the same place. I ordered myservants to take care that none might come and interrupt us, and both Peter andI desired Raphael to be as good as his word. When he saw that we were veryintent upon it he paused a little to recollect himself, and began in thismanner:—

“The island of Utopia is in the middle two hundred miles broad, and holdsalmost at the same breadth over a great part of it, but it grows narrowertowards both ends. Its figure is not unlike a crescent. Between its horns thesea comes in eleven miles broad, and spreads itself into a great bay, which isenvironed with land to the compass of about five hundred miles, and is wellsecured from winds. In this bay there is no great current; the whole coast is,as it were, one continued harbour, which gives all that live in the islandgreat convenience for mutual commerce. But the entry into the bay, occasionedby rocks on the one hand and shallows on the other, is very dangerous. In themiddle of it there is one single rock which appears above water, and may,therefore, easily be avoided; and on the top of it there is a tower, in which agarrison is kept; the other rocks lie under water, and are very dangerous. Thechannel is known only to the natives; so that if any stranger should enter intothe bay without one of their pilots he would run great danger of shipwreck. Foreven they themselves could not pass it safe if some marks that are on the coastdid not direct their way; and if these should be but a little shifted, anyfleet that might come against them, how great soever it were, would becertainly lost. On the other side of the island there are likewise manyharbours; and the coast is so fortified, both by nature and art, that a smallnumber of men can hinder the descent of a great army. But they report (andthere remains good marks of it to make it credible) that this was no island atfirst, but a part of the continent. Utopus, that conquered it (whose name itstill carries, for Abraxa was its first name), brought the rude and uncivilisedinhabitants into such a good government, and to that measure of politeness,that they now far excel all the rest of mankind. Having soon subdued them, hedesigned to separate them from the continent, and to bring the sea quite roundthem. To accomplish this he ordered a deep channel to be dug, fifteen mileslong; and that the natives might not think he treated them like slaves, he notonly forced the inhabitants, but also his own soldiers, to labour in carryingit on. As he set a vast number of men to work, he, beyond all men’sexpectations, brought it to a speedy conclusion. And his neighbours, who atfirst laughed at the folly of the undertaking, no sooner saw it brought toperfection than they were struck with admiration and terror.

“There are fifty-four cities in the island, all large and well built, themanners, customs, and laws of which are the same, and they are all contrived asnear in the same manner as the ground on which they stand will allow. Thenearest lie at least twenty-four miles’ distance from one another, andthe most remote are not so far distant but that a man can go on foot in one dayfrom it to that which lies next it. Every city sends three of their wisestsenators once a year to Amaurot, to consult about their common concerns; forthat is the chief town of the island, being situated near the centre of it, sothat it is the most convenient place for their assemblies. The jurisdiction ofevery city extends at least twenty miles, and, where the towns lie wider, theyhave much more ground. No town desires to enlarge its bounds, for the peopleconsider themselves rather as tenants than landlords. They have built, over allthe country, farmhouses for husbandmen, which are well contrived, and furnishedwith all things necessary for country labour. Inhabitants are sent, by turns,from the cities to dwell in them; no country family has fewer than forty menand women in it, besides two slaves. There is a master and a mistress set overevery family, and over thirty families there is a magistrate. Every year twentyof this family come back to the town after they have stayed two years in thecountry, and in their room there are other twenty sent from the town, that theymay learn country work from those that have been already one year in thecountry, as they must teach those that come to them the next from the town. Bythis means such as dwell in those country farms are never ignorant ofa*griculture, and so commit no errors which might otherwise be fatal and bringthem under a scarcity of corn. But though there is every year such a shiftingof the husbandmen to prevent any man being forced against his will to followthat hard course of life too long, yet many among them take such pleasure in itthat they desire leave to continue in it many years. These husbandmen till theground, breed cattle, hew wood, and convey it to the towns either by land orwater, as is most convenient. They breed an infinite multitude of chickens in avery curious manner; for the hens do not sit and hatch them, but a vast numberof eggs are laid in a gentle and equal heat in order to be hatched, and theyare no sooner out of the shell, and able to stir about, but they seem toconsider those that feed them as their mothers, and follow them as otherchickens do the hen that hatched them. They breed very few horses, but thosethey have are full of mettle, and are kept only for exercising their youth inthe art of sitting and riding them; for they do not put them to any work,either of ploughing or carriage, in which they employ oxen. For though theirhorses are stronger, yet they find oxen can hold out longer; and as they arenot subject to so many diseases, so they are kept upon a less charge and withless trouble. And even when they are so worn out that they are no more fit forlabour, they are good meat at last. They sow no corn but that which is to betheir bread; for they drink either wine, cider or perry, and often water,sometimes boiled with honey or liquorice, with which they abound; and thoughthey know exactly how much corn will serve every town and all that tract ofcountry which belongs to it, yet they sow much more and breed more cattle thanare necessary for their consumption, and they give that overplus of which theymake no use to their neighbours. When they want anything in the country whichit does not produce, they fetch that from the town, without carrying anythingin exchange for it. And the magistrates of the town take care to see it giventhem; for they meet generally in the town once a month, upon a festival day.When the time of harvest comes, the magistrates in the country send to those inthe towns and let them know how many hands they will need for reaping theharvest; and the number they call for being sent to them, they commonlydespatch it all in one day.

OF THEIR TOWNS, PARTICULARLY OF AMAUROT

“He that knows one of their towns knows them all—they are so likeone another, except where the situation makes some difference. I shalltherefore describe one of them, and none is so proper as Amaurot; for as noneis more eminent (all the rest yielding in precedence to this, because it is theseat of their supreme council), so there was none of them better known to me, Ihaving lived five years all together in it.

“It lies upon the side of a hill, or, rather, a rising ground. Its figureis almost square, for from the one side of it, which shoots up almost to thetop of the hill, it runs down, in a descent for two miles, to the river Anider;but it is a little broader the other way that runs along by the bank of thatriver. The Anider rises about eighty miles above Amaurot, in a small spring atfirst. But other brooks falling into it, of which two are more considerablethan the rest, as it runs by Amaurot it is grown half a mile broad; but, itstill grows larger and larger, till, after sixty miles’ course below it,it is lost in the ocean. Between the town and the sea, and for some miles abovethe town, it ebbs and flows every six hours with a strong current. The tidecomes up about thirty miles so full that there is nothing but salt water in theriver, the fresh water being driven back with its force; and above that, forsome miles, the water is brackish; but a little higher, as it runs by the town,it is quite fresh; and when the tide ebbs, it continues fresh all along to thesea. There is a bridge cast over the river, not of timber, but of fair stone,consisting of many stately arches; it lies at that part of the town which isfarthest from the sea, so that the ships, without any hindrance, lie all alongthe side of the town. There is, likewise, another river that runs by it, which,though it is not great, yet it runs pleasantly, for it rises out of the samehill on which the town stands, and so runs down through it and falls into theAnider. The inhabitants have fortified the fountain-head of this river, whichsprings a little without the towns; that so, if they should happen to bebesieged, the enemy might not be able to stop or divert the course of thewater, nor poison it; from thence it is carried, in earthen pipes, to the lowerstreets. And for those places of the town to which the water of that smallriver cannot be conveyed, they have great cisterns for receiving therain-water, which supplies the want of the other. The town is compassed with ahigh and thick wall, in which there are many towers and forts; there is also abroad and deep dry ditch, set thick with thorns, cast round three sides of thetown, and the river is instead of a ditch on the fourth side. The streets arevery convenient for all carriage, and are well sheltered from the winds. Theirbuildings are good, and are so uniform that a whole side of a street looks likeone house. The streets are twenty feet broad; there lie gardens behind alltheir houses. These are large, but enclosed with buildings, that on all handsface the streets, so that every house has both a door to the street and a backdoor to the garden. Their doors have all two leaves, which, as they are easilyopened, so they shut of their own accord; and, there being no property amongthem, every man may freely enter into any house whatsoever. At every tenyears’ end they shift their houses by lots. They cultivate their gardenswith great care, so that they have both vines, fruits, herbs, and flowers inthem; and all is so well ordered and so finely kept that I never saw gardensanywhere that were both so fruitful and so beautiful as theirs. And this humourof ordering their gardens so well is not only kept up by the pleasure they findin it, but also by an emulation between the inhabitants of the several streets,who vie with each other. And there is, indeed, nothing belonging to the wholetown that is both more useful and more pleasant. So that he who founded thetown seems to have taken care of nothing more than of their gardens; for theysay the whole scheme of the town was designed at first by Utopus, but he leftall that belonged to the ornament and improvement of it to be added by thosethat should come after him, that being too much for one man to bring toperfection. Their records, that contain the history of their town and State,are preserved with an exact care, and run backwards seventeen hundred and sixtyyears. From these it appears that their houses were at first low and mean, likecottages, made of any sort of timber, and were built with mud walls andthatched with straw. But now their houses are three storeys high, the fronts ofthem are faced either with stone, plastering, or brick, and between the facingsof their walls they throw in their rubbish. Their roofs are flat, and on themthey lay a sort of plaster, which costs very little, and yet is so temperedthat it is not apt to take fire, and yet resists the weather more than lead.They have great quantities of glass among them, with which they glaze theirwindows; they use also in their windows a thin linen cloth, that is so oiled orgummed that it both keeps out the wind and gives free admission to the light.

OF THEIR MAGISTRATES

“Thirty families choose every year a magistrate, who was anciently calledthe Syphogrant, but is now called the Philarch; and over every ten Syphogrants,with the families subject to them, there is another magistrate, who wasanciently called the Tranibore, but of late the Archphilarch. All theSyphogrants, who are in number two hundred, choose the Prince out of a list offour who are named by the people of the four divisions of the city; but theytake an oath, before they proceed to an election, that they will choose himwhom they think most fit for the office: they give him their voices secretly,so that it is not known for whom every one gives his suffrage. The Prince isfor life, unless he is removed upon suspicion of some design to enslave thepeople. The Tranibors are new chosen every year, but yet they are, for the mostpart, continued; all their other magistrates are only annual. The Traniborsmeet every third day, and oftener if necessary, and consult with the Princeeither concerning the affairs of the State in general, or such privatedifferences as may arise sometimes among the people, though that falls out butseldom. There are always two Syphogrants called into the council chamber, andthese are changed every day. It is a fundamental rule of their government, thatno conclusion can be made in anything that relates to the public till it hasbeen first debated three several days in their council. It is death for any tomeet and consult concerning the State, unless it be either in their ordinarycouncil, or in the assembly of the whole body of the people.

“These things have been so provided among them that the Prince and theTranibors may not conspire together to change the government and enslave thepeople; and therefore when anything of great importance is set on foot, it issent to the Syphogrants, who, after they have communicated it to the familiesthat belong to their divisions, and have considered it among themselves, makereport to the senate; and, upon great occasions, the matter is referred to thecouncil of the whole island. One rule observed in their council is, never todebate a thing on the same day in which it is first proposed; for that isalways referred to the next meeting, that so men may not rashly and in the heatof discourse engage themselves too soon, which might bias them so much that,instead of consulting the good of the public, they might rather study tosupport their first opinions, and by a perverse and preposterous sort of shamehazard their country rather than endanger their own reputation, or venture thebeing suspected to have wanted foresight in the expedients that they at firstproposed; and therefore, to prevent this, they take care that they may ratherbe deliberate than sudden in their motions.

OF THEIR TRADES, AND MANNER OF LIFE

“Agriculture is that which is so universally understood among them thatno person, either man or woman, is ignorant of it; they are instructed in itfrom their childhood, partly by what they learn at school, and partly bypractice, they being led out often into the fields about the town, where theynot only see others at work but are likewise exercised in it themselves.Besides agriculture, which is so common to them all, every man has somepeculiar trade to which he applies himself; such as the manufacture of wool orflax, masonry, smith’s work, or carpenter’s work; for there is nosort of trade that is in great esteem among them. Throughout the island theywear the same sort of clothes, without any other distinction except what isnecessary to distinguish the two sexes and the married and unmarried. Thefashion never alters, and as it is neither disagreeable nor uneasy, so it issuited to the climate, and calculated both for their summers and winters. Everyfamily makes their own clothes; but all among them, women as well as men, learnone or other of the trades formerly mentioned. Women, for the most part, dealin wool and flax, which suit best with their weakness, leaving the ruder tradesto the men. The same trade generally passes down from father to son,inclinations often following descent: but if any man’s genius liesanother way he is, by adoption, translated into a family that deals in thetrade to which he is inclined; and when that is to be done, care is taken, notonly by his father, but by the magistrate, that he may be put to a discreet andgood man: and if, after a person has learned one trade, he desires to acquireanother, that is also allowed, and is managed in the same manner as the former.When he has learned both, he follows that which he likes best, unless thepublic has more occasion for the other.

The chief, and almost the only, business of the Syphogrants is to take carethat no man may live idle, but that every one may follow his trade diligently;yet they do not wear themselves out with perpetual toil from morning to night,as if they were beasts of burden, which as it is indeed a heavy slavery, so itis everywhere the common course of life amongst all mechanics except theUtopians: but they, dividing the day and night into twenty-four hours, appointsix of these for work, three of which are before dinner and three after; theythen sup, and at eight o’clock, counting from noon, go to bed and sleepeight hours: the rest of their time, besides that taken up in work, eating, andsleeping, is left to every man’s discretion; yet they are not to abusethat interval to luxury and idleness, but must employ it in some properexercise, according to their various inclinations, which is, for the most part,reading. It is ordinary to have public lectures every morning before daybreak,at which none are obliged to appear but those who are marked out forliterature; yet a great many, both men and women, of all ranks, go to hearlectures of one sort or other, according to their inclinations: but if othersthat are not made for contemplation, choose rather to employ themselves at thattime in their trades, as many of them do, they are not hindered, but are rathercommended, as men that take care to serve their country. After supper theyspend an hour in some diversion, in summer in their gardens, and in winter inthe halls where they eat, where they entertain each other either with music ordiscourse. They do not so much as know dice, or any such foolish andmischievous games. They have, however, two sorts of games not unlike our chess;the one is between several numbers, in which one number, as it were, consumesanother; the other resembles a battle between the virtues and the vices, inwhich the enmity in the vices among themselves, and their agreement againstvirtue, is not unpleasantly represented; together with the special oppositionbetween the particular virtues and vices; as also the methods by which viceeither openly assaults or secretly undermines virtue; and virtue, on the otherhand, resists it. But the time appointed for labour is to be narrowly examined,otherwise you may imagine that since there are only six hours appointed forwork, they may fall under a scarcity of necessary provisions: but it is so farfrom being true that this time is not sufficient for supplying them with plentyof all things, either necessary or convenient, that it is rather too much; andthis you will easily apprehend if you consider how great a part of all othernations is quite idle. First, women generally do little, who are the half ofmankind; and if some few women are diligent, their husbands are idle: thenconsider the great company of idle priests, and of those that are calledreligious men; add to these all rich men, chiefly those that have estates inland, who are called noblemen and gentlemen, together with their families, madeup of idle persons, that are kept more for show than use; add to these allthose strong and lusty beggars that go about pretending some disease in excusefor their begging; and upon the whole account you will find that the number ofthose by whose labours mankind is supplied is much less than you perhapsimagined: then consider how few of those that work are employed in labours thatare of real service, for we, who measure all things by money, give rise to manytrades that are both vain and superfluous, and serve only to support riot andluxury: for if those who work were employed only in such things as theconveniences of life require, there would be such an abundance of them that theprices of them would so sink that tradesmen could not be maintained by theirgains; if all those who labour about useless things were set to more profitableemployments, and if all they that languish out their lives in sloth andidleness (every one of whom consumes as much as any two of the men that are atwork) were forced to labour, you may easily imagine that a small proportion oftime would serve for doing all that is either necessary, profitable, orpleasant to mankind, especially while pleasure is kept within its due bounds:this appears very plainly in Utopia; for there, in a great city, and in all theterritory that lies round it, you can scarce find five hundred, either men orwomen, by their age and strength capable of labour, that are not engaged in it.Even the Syphogrants, though excused by the law, yet do not excuse themselves,but work, that by their examples they may excite the industry of the rest ofthe people; the like exemption is allowed to those who, being recommended tothe people by the priests, are, by the secret suffrages of the Syphogrants,privileged from labour, that they may apply themselves wholly to study; and ifany of these fall short of those hopes that they seemed at first to give, theyare obliged to return to work; and sometimes a mechanic that so employs hisleisure hours as to make a considerable advancement in learning is eased frombeing a tradesman and ranked among their learned men. Out of these they choosetheir ambassadors, their priests, their Tranibors, and the Prince himself,anciently called their Barzenes, but is called of late their Ademus.

“And thus from the great numbers among them that are neither suffered tobe idle nor to be employed in any fruitless labour, you may easily make theestimate how much may be done in those few hours in which they are obliged tolabour. But, besides all that has been already said, it is to be consideredthat the needful arts among them are managed with less labour than anywhereelse. The building or the repairing of houses among us employ many hands,because often a thriftless heir suffers a house that his father built to fallinto decay, so that his successor must, at a great cost, repair that which hemight have kept up with a small charge; it frequently happens that the samehouse which one person built at a vast expense is neglected by another, whothinks he has a more delicate sense of the beauties of architecture, and he,suffering it to fall to ruin, builds another at no less charge. But among theUtopians all things are so regulated that men very seldom build upon a newpiece of ground, and are not only very quick in repairing their houses, butshow their foresight in preventing their decay, so that their buildings arepreserved very long with but very little labour, and thus the builders, to whomthat care belongs, are often without employment, except the hewing of timberand the squaring of stones, that the materials may be in readiness for raisinga building very suddenly when there is any occasion for it. As to theirclothes, observe how little work is spent in them; while they are at labourthey are clothed with leather and skins, cut carelessly about them, which willlast seven years, and when they appear in public they put on an upper garmentwhich hides the other; and these are all of one colour, and that is the naturalcolour of the wool. As they need less woollen cloth than is used anywhere else,so that which they make use of is much less costly; they use linen cloth more,but that is prepared with less labour, and they value cloth only by thewhiteness of the linen or the cleanness of the wool, without much regard to thefineness of the thread. While in other places four or five upper garments ofwoollen cloth of different colours, and as many vests of silk, will scarceserve one man, and while those that are nicer think ten too few, every manthere is content with one, which very often serves him two years; nor is thereanything that can tempt a man to desire more, for if he had them he wouldneither be the, warmer nor would he make one jot the better appearance for it.And thus, since they are all employed in some useful labour, and since theycontent themselves with fewer things, it falls out that there is a greatabundance of all things among them; so that it frequently happens that, forwant of other work, vast numbers are sent out to mend the highways; but when nopublic undertaking is to be performed, the hours of working are lessened. Themagistrates never engage the people in unnecessary labour, since the chief endof the constitution is to regulate labour by the necessities of the public, andto allow the people as much time as is necessary for the improvement of theirminds, in which they think the happiness of life consists.

OF THEIR TRAFFIC

“But it is now time to explain to you the mutual intercourse of thispeople, their commerce, and the rules by which all things are distributed amongthem.

“As their cities are composed of families, so their families are made upof those that are nearly related to one another. Their women, when they growup, are married out, but all the males, both children and grand-children, livestill in the same house, in great obedience to their common parent, unless agehas weakened his understanding, and in that case he that is next to him in agecomes in his room; but lest any city should become either too great, or by anyaccident be dispeopled, provision is made that none of their cities may containabove six thousand families, besides those of the country around it. No familymay have less than ten and more than sixteen persons in it, but there can be nodetermined number for the children under age; this rule is easily observed byremoving some of the children of a more fruitful couple to any other familythat does not abound so much in them. By the same rule they supply cities thatdo not increase so fast from others that breed faster; and if there is anyincrease over the whole island, then they draw out a number of their citizensout of the several towns and send them over to the neighbouring continent,where, if they find that the inhabitants have more soil than they can wellcultivate, they fix a colony, taking the inhabitants into their society if theyare willing to live with them; and where they do that of their own accord, theyquickly enter into their method of life and conform to their rules, and thisproves a happiness to both nations; for, according to their constitution, suchcare is taken of the soil that it becomes fruitful enough for both, though itmight be otherwise too narrow and barren for any one of them. But if thenatives refuse to conform themselves to their laws they drive them out of thosebounds which they mark out for themselves, and use force if they resist, forthey account it a very just cause of war for a nation to hinder others frompossessing a part of that soil of which they make no use, but which is sufferedto lie idle and uncultivated, since every man has, by the law of nature, aright to such a waste portion of the earth as is necessary for his subsistence.If an accident has so lessened the number of the inhabitants of any of theirtowns that it cannot be made up from the other towns of the island withoutdiminishing them too much (which is said to have fallen out but twice sincethey were first a people, when great numbers were carried off by the plague),the loss is then supplied by recalling as many as are wanted from theircolonies, for they will abandon these rather than suffer the towns in theisland to sink too low.

“But to return to their manner of living in society: the oldest man ofevery family, as has been already said, is its governor; wives serve theirhusbands, and children their parents, and always the younger serves the elder.Every city is divided into four equal parts, and in the middle of each there isa market-place. What is brought thither, and manufactured by the severalfamilies, is carried from thence to houses appointed for that purpose, in whichall things of a sort are laid by themselves; and thither every father goes, andtakes whatsoever he or his family stand in need of, without either paying forit or leaving anything in exchange. There is no reason for giving a denial toany person, since there is such plenty of everything among them; and there isno danger of a man’s asking for more than he needs; they have noinducements to do this, since they are sure they shall always be supplied: itis the fear of want that makes any of the whole race of animals either greedyor ravenous; but, besides fear, there is in man a pride that makes him fancy ita particular glory to excel others in pomp and excess; but by the laws of theUtopians, there is no room for this. Near these markets there are others forall sorts of provisions, where there are not only herbs, fruits, and bread, butalso fish, fowl, and cattle. There are also, without their towns, placesappointed near some running water for killing their beasts and for washing awaytheir filth, which is done by their slaves; for they suffer none of theircitizens to kill their cattle, because they think that pity and good-nature,which are among the best of those affections that are born with us, are muchimpaired by the butchering of animals; nor do they suffer anything that is foulor unclean to be brought within their towns, lest the air should be infected byill-smells, which might prejudice their health. In every street there are greathalls, that lie at an equal distance from each other, distinguished byparticular names. The Syphogrants dwell in those that are set over thirtyfamilies, fifteen lying on one side of it, and as many on the other. In thesehalls they all meet and have their repasts; the stewards of every one of themcome to the market-place at an appointed hour, and according to the number ofthose that belong to the hall they carry home provisions. But they take morecare of their sick than of any others; these are lodged and provided for inpublic hospitals. They have belonging to every town four hospitals, that arebuilt without their walls, and are so large that they may pass for littletowns; by this means, if they had ever such a number of sick persons, theycould lodge them conveniently, and at such a distance that such of them as aresick of infectious diseases may be kept so far from the rest that there can beno danger of contagion. The hospitals are furnished and stored with all thingsthat are convenient for the ease and recovery of the sick; and those that areput in them are looked after with such tender and watchful care, and are soconstantly attended by their skilful physicians, that as none is sent to themagainst their will, so there is scarce one in a whole town that, if he shouldfall ill, would not choose rather to go thither than lie sick at home.

“After the steward of the hospitals has taken for the sick whatsoever thephysician prescribes, then the best things that are left in the market aredistributed equally among the halls in proportion to their numbers; only, inthe first place, they serve the Prince, the Chief Priest, the Tranibors, theAmbassadors, and strangers, if there are any, which, indeed, falls out butseldom, and for whom there are houses, well furnished, particularly appointedfor their reception when they come among them. At the hours of dinner andsupper the whole Syphogranty being called together by sound of trumpet, theymeet and eat together, except only such as are in the hospitals or lie sick athome. Yet, after the halls are served, no man is hindered to carry provisionshome from the market-place, for they know that none does that but for some goodreason; for though any that will may eat at home, yet none does it willingly,since it is both ridiculous and foolish for any to give themselves the troubleto make ready an ill dinner at home when there is a much more plentiful onemade ready for him so near hand. All the uneasy and sordid services about thesehalls are performed by their slaves; but the dressing and cooking their meat,and the ordering their tables, belong only to the women, all those of everyfamily taking it by turns. They sit at three or more tables, according to theirnumber; the men sit towards the wall, and the women sit on the other side, thatif any of them should be taken suddenly ill, which is no uncommon case amongstwomen with child, she may, without disturbing the rest, rise and go to thenurses’ room (who are there with the sucking children), where there isalways clean water at hand and cradles, in which they may lay the youngchildren if there is occasion for it, and a fire, that they may shift and dressthem before it. Every child is nursed by its own mother if death or sicknessdoes not intervene; and in that case the Syphogrants’ wives find out anurse quickly, which is no hard matter, for any one that can do it offersherself cheerfully; for as they are much inclined to that piece of mercy, sothe child whom they nurse considers the nurse as its mother. All the childrenunder five years old sit among the nurses; the rest of the younger sort of bothsexes, till they are fit for marriage, either serve those that sit at table,or, if they are not strong enough for that, stand by them in great silence andeat what is given them; nor have they any other formality of dining. In themiddle of the first table, which stands across the upper end of the hall, sitthe Syphogrant and his wife, for that is the chief and most conspicuous place;next to him sit two of the most ancient, for there go always four to a mess. Ifthere is a temple within the Syphogranty, the Priest and his wife sit with theSyphogrant above all the rest; next them there is a mixture of old and young,who are so placed that as the young are set near others, so they are mixed withthe more ancient; which, they say, was appointed on this account: that thegravity of the old people, and the reverence that is due to them, mightrestrain the younger from all indecent words and gestures. Dishes are notserved up to the whole table at first, but the best are first set before theold, whose seats are distinguished from the young, and, after them, all therest are served alike. The old men distribute to the younger any curious meatsthat happen to be set before them, if there is not such an abundance of themthat the whole company may be served alike.

“Thus old men are honoured with a particular respect, yet all the restfare as well as they. Both dinner and supper are begun with some lecture ofmorality that is read to them; but it is so short that it is not tedious noruneasy to them to hear it. From hence the old men take occasion to entertainthose about them with some useful and pleasant enlargements; but they do notengross the whole discourse so to themselves during their meals that theyounger may not put in for a share; on the contrary, they engage them to talk,that so they may, in that free way of conversation, find out the force of everyone’s spirit and observe his temper. They despatch their dinners quickly,but sit long at supper, because they go to work after the one, and are to sleepafter the other, during which they think the stomach carries on the concoctionmore vigorously. They never sup without music, and there is always fruit servedup after meat; while they are at table some burn perfumes and sprinkle aboutfragrant ointments and sweet waters—in short, they want nothing that maycheer up their spirits; they give themselves a large allowance that way, andindulge themselves in all such pleasures as are attended with no inconvenience.Thus do those that are in the towns live together; but in the country, wherethey live at a great distance, every one eats at home, and no family wants anynecessary sort of provision, for it is from them that provisions are sent untothose that live in the towns.

OF THE TRAVELLING OF THE UTOPIANS

If any man has a mind to visit his friends that live in some other town, ordesires to travel and see the rest of the country, he obtains leave very easilyfrom the Syphogrant and Tranibors, when there is no particular occasion for himat home. Such as travel carry with them a passport from the Prince, which bothcertifies the licence that is granted for travelling, and limits the time oftheir return. They are furnished with a waggon and a slave, who drives the oxenand looks after them; but, unless there are women in the company, the waggon issent back at the end of the journey as a needless encumbrance. While they areon the road they carry no provisions with them, yet they want for nothing, butare everywhere treated as if they were at home. If they stay in any placelonger than a night, every one follows his proper occupation, and is very wellused by those of his own trade; but if any man goes out of the city to which hebelongs without leave, and is found rambling without a passport, he is severelytreated, he is punished as a fugitive, and sent home disgracefully; and, if hefalls again into the like fault, is condemned to slavery. If any man has a mindto travel only over the precinct of his own city, he may freely do it, with hisfather’s permission and his wife’s consent; but when he comes intoany of the country houses, if he expects to be entertained by them, he mustlabour with them and conform to their rules; and if he does this, he may freelygo over the whole precinct, being then as useful to the city to which hebelongs as if he were still within it. Thus you see that there are no idlepersons among them, nor pretences of excusing any from labour. There are notaverns, no ale-houses, nor stews among them, nor any other occasions ofcorrupting each other, of getting into corners, or forming themselves intoparties; all men live in full view, so that all are obliged both to performtheir ordinary task and to employ themselves well in their spare hours; and itis certain that a people thus ordered must live in great abundance of allthings, and these being equally distributed among them, no man can want or beobliged to beg.

“In their great council at Amaurot, to which there are three sent fromevery town once a year, they examine what towns abound in provisions and whatare under any scarcity, that so the one may be furnished from the other; andthis is done freely, without any sort of exchange; for, according to theirplenty or scarcity, they supply or are supplied from one another, so thatindeed the whole island is, as it were, one family. When they have thus takencare of their whole country, and laid up stores for two years (which they do toprevent the ill consequences of an unfavourable season), they order anexportation of the overplus, both of corn, honey, wool, flax, wood, wax,tallow, leather, and cattle, which they send out, commonly in great quantities,to other nations. They order a seventh part of all these goods to be freelygiven to the poor of the countries to which they send them, and sell the restat moderate rates; and by this exchange they not only bring back those fewthings that they need at home (for, indeed, they scarce need anything butiron), but likewise a great deal of gold and silver; and by their driving thistrade so long, it is not to be imagined how vast a treasure they have got amongthem, so that now they do not much care whether they sell off their merchandisefor money in hand or upon trust. A great part of their treasure is now inbonds; but in all their contracts no private man stands bound, but the writingruns in the name of the town; and the towns that owe them money raise it fromthose private hands that owe it to them, lay it up in their public chamber, orenjoy the profit of it till the Utopians call for it; and they choose rather tolet the greatest part of it lie in their hands, who make advantage by it, thanto call for it themselves; but if they see that any of their other neighboursstand more in need of it, then they call it in and lend it to them. Wheneverthey are engaged in war, which is the only occasion in which their treasure canbe usefully employed, they make use of it themselves; in great extremities orsudden accidents they employ it in hiring foreign troops, whom they morewillingly expose to danger than their own people; they give them great pay,knowing well that this will work even on their enemies; that it will engagethem either to betray their own side, or, at least, to desert it; and that itis the best means of raising mutual jealousies among them. For this end theyhave an incredible treasure; but they do not keep it as a treasure, but in sucha manner as I am almost afraid to tell, lest you think it so extravagant as tobe hardly credible. This I have the more reason to apprehend because, if I hadnot seen it myself, I could not have been easily persuaded to have believed itupon any man’s report.

“It is certain that all things appear incredible to us in proportion asthey differ from known customs; but one who can judge aright will not wonder tofind that, since their constitution differs so much from ours, their value ofgold and silver should be measured by a very different standard; for since theyhave no use for money among themselves, but keep it as a provision againstevents which seldom happen, and between which there are generally longintervening intervals, they value it no farther than it deserves—that is,in proportion to its use. So that it is plain they must prefer iron either togold or silver, for men can no more live without iron than without fire orwater; but Nature has marked out no use for the other metals so essential asnot easily to be dispensed with. The folly of men has enhanced the value ofgold and silver because of their scarcity; whereas, on the contrary, it istheir opinion that Nature, as an indulgent parent, has freely given us all thebest things in great abundance, such as water and earth, but has laid up andhid from us the things that are vain and useless.

“If these metals were laid up in any tower in the kingdom it would raisea jealousy of the Prince and Senate, and give birth to that foolish mistrustinto which the people are apt to fall—a jealousy of their intending tosacrifice the interest of the public to their own private advantage. If theyshould work it into vessels, or any sort of plate, they fear that the peoplemight grow too fond of it, and so be unwilling to let the plate be run down, ifa war made it necessary, to employ it in paying their soldiers. To prevent allthese inconveniences they have fallen upon an expedient which, as it agreeswith their other policy, so is it very different from ours, and will scarcegain belief among us who value gold so much, and lay it up so carefully. Theyeat and drink out of vessels of earth or glass, which make an agreeableappearance, though formed of brittle materials; while they make theirchamber-pots and close-stools of gold and silver, and that not only in theirpublic halls but in their private houses. Of the same metals they likewise makechains and fetters for their slaves, to some of which, as a badge of infamy,they hang an earring of gold, and make others wear a chain or a coronet of thesame metal; and thus they take care by all possible means to render gold andsilver of no esteem; and from hence it is that while other nations part withtheir gold and silver as unwillingly as if one tore out their bowels, those ofUtopia would look on their giving in all they possess of those metals (whenthere were any use for them) but as the parting with a trifle, or as we wouldesteem the loss of a penny! They find pearls on their coasts, and diamonds andcarbuncles on their rocks; they do not look after them, but, if they find themby chance, they polish them, and with them they adorn their children, who aredelighted with them, and glory in them during their childhood; but when theygrow to years, and see that none but children use such baubles, they of theirown accord, without being bid by their parents, lay them aside, and would be asmuch ashamed to use them afterwards as children among us, when they come toyears, are of their puppets and other toys.

“I never saw a clearer instance of the opposite impressions thatdifferent customs make on people than I observed in the ambassadors of theAnemolians, who came to Amaurot when I was there. As they came to treat ofaffairs of great consequence, the deputies from several towns met together towait for their coming. The ambassadors of the nations that lie near Utopia,knowing their customs, and that fine clothes are in no esteem among them, thatsilk is despised, and gold is a badge of infamy, used to come very modestlyclothed; but the Anemolians, lying more remote, and having had little commercewith them, understanding that they were coarsely clothed, and all in the samemanner, took it for granted that they had none of those fine things among themof which they made no use; and they, being a vainglorious rather than a wisepeople, resolved to set themselves out with so much pomp that they should looklike gods, and strike the eyes of the poor Utopians with their splendour. Thusthree ambassadors made their entry with a hundred attendants, all clad ingarments of different colours, and the greater part in silk; the ambassadorsthemselves, who were of the nobility of their country, were in cloth-of-gold,and adorned with massy chains, earrings and rings of gold; their caps werecovered with bracelets set full of pearls and other gems—in a word, theywere set out with all those things that among the Utopians were either thebadges of slavery, the marks of infamy, or the playthings of children. It wasnot unpleasant to see, on the one side, how they looked big, when they comparedtheir rich habits with the plain clothes of the Utopians, who were come out ingreat numbers to see them make their entry; and, on the other, to observe howmuch they were mistaken in the impression which they hoped this pomp would havemade on them. It appeared so ridiculous a show to all that had never stirredout of their country, and had not seen the customs of other nations, thatthough they paid some reverence to those that were the most meanly clad, as ifthey had been the ambassadors, yet when they saw the ambassadors themselves sofull of gold and chains, they looked upon them as slaves, and forbore to treatthem with reverence. You might have seen the children who were grown big enoughto despise their playthings, and who had thrown away their jewels, call totheir mothers, push them gently, and cry out, ‘See that great fool, thatwears pearls and gems as if he were yet a child!’ while their mothersvery innocently replied, ‘Hold your peace! this, I believe, is one of theambassadors’ fools.’ Others censured the fashion of their chains,and observed, ‘That they were of no use, for they were too slight to bindtheir slaves, who could easily break them; and, besides, hung so loose aboutthem that they thought it easy to throw their away, and so get fromthem.” But after the ambassadors had stayed a day among them, and saw sovast a quantity of gold in their houses (which was as much despised by them asit was esteemed in other nations), and beheld more gold and silver in thechains and fetters of one slave than all their ornaments amounted to, theirplumes fell, and they were ashamed of all that glory for which they had formedvalued themselves, and accordingly laid it aside—a resolution that theyimmediately took when, on their engaging in some free discourse with theUtopians, they discovered their sense of such things and their other customs.The Utopians wonder how any man should be so much taken with the glaringdoubtful lustre of a jewel or a stone, that can look up to a star or to the sunhimself; or how any should value himself because his cloth is made of a finerthread; for, how fine soever that thread may be, it was once no better than thefleece of a sheep, and that sheep, was a sheep still, for all its wearing it.They wonder much to hear that gold, which in itself is so useless a thing,should be everywhere so much esteemed that even man, for whom it was made, andby whom it has its value, should yet be thought of less value than this metal;that a man of lead, who has no more sense than a log of wood, and is as bad ashe is foolish, should have many wise and good men to serve him, only because hehas a great heap of that metal; and that if it should happen that by someaccident or trick of law (which, sometimes produces as great changes as chanceitself) all this wealth should pass from the master to the meanest varlet ofhis whole family, he himself would very soon become one of his servants, as ifhe were a thing that belonged to his wealth, and so were bound to follow itsfortune! But they much more admire and detest the folly of those who, when theysee a rich man, though they neither owe him anything, nor are in any sortdependent on his bounty, yet, merely because he is rich, give him little lessthan divine honours, even though they know him to be so covetous andbase-minded that, notwithstanding all his wealth, he will not part with onefarthing of it to them as long as he lives!

“These and such like notions have that people imbibed, partly from theireducation, being bred in a country whose customs and laws are opposite to allsuch foolish maxims, and partly from their learning and studies—forthough there are but few in any town that are so wholly excused from labour asto give themselves entirely up to their studies (these being only such personsas discover from their childhood an extraordinary capacity and disposition forletters), yet their children and a great part of the nation, both men andwomen, are taught to spend those hours in which they are not obliged to work inreading; and this they do through the whole progress of life. They have alltheir learning in their own tongue, which is both a copious and pleasantlanguage, and in which a man can fully express his mind; it runs over a greattract of many countries, but it is not equally pure in all places. They hadnever so much as heard of the names of any of those philosophers that are sofamous in these parts of the world, before we went among them; and yet they hadmade the same discoveries as the Greeks, both in music, logic, arithmetic, andgeometry. But as they are almost in everything equal to the ancientphilosophers, so they far exceed our modern logicians for they have never yetfallen upon the barbarous niceties that our youth are forced to learn in thosetrifling logical schools that are among us. They are so far from mindingchimeras and fantastical images made in the mind that none of them couldcomprehend what we meant when we talked to them of a man in the abstract ascommon to all men in particular (so that though we spoke of him as a thing thatwe could point at with our fingers, yet none of them could perceive him) andyet distinct from every one, as if he were some monstrous Colossus or giant;yet, for all this ignorance of these empty notions, they knew astronomy, andwere perfectly acquainted with the motions of the heavenly bodies; and havemany instruments, well contrived and divided, by which they very accuratelycompute the course and positions of the sun, moon, and stars. But for the cheatof divining by the stars, by their oppositions or conjunctions, it has not somuch as entered into their thoughts. They have a particular sagacity, foundedupon much observation, in judging of the weather, by which they know when theymay look for rain, wind, or other alterations in the air; but as to thephilosophy of these things, the cause of the saltness of the sea, of its ebbingand flowing, and of the original and nature both of the heavens and the earth,they dispute of them partly as our ancient philosophers have done, and partlyupon some new hypothesis, in which, as they differ from them, so they do not inall things agree among themselves.

“As to moral philosophy, they have the same disputes among them as wehave here. They examine what are properly good, both for the body and the mind;and whether any outward thing can be called truly good, or if that termbelong only to the endowments of the soul. They inquire, likewise, into thenature of virtue and pleasure. But their chief dispute is concerning thehappiness of a man, and wherein it consists—whether in some one thing orin a great many. They seem, indeed, more inclinable to that opinion thatplaces, if not the whole, yet the chief part, of a man’s happiness inpleasure; and, what may seem more strange, they make use of arguments even fromreligion, notwithstanding its severity and roughness, for the support of thatopinion so indulgent to pleasure; for they never dispute concerning happinesswithout fetching some arguments from the principles of religion as well as fromnatural reason, since without the former they reckon that all our inquiriesafter happiness must be but conjectural and defective.

“These are their religious principles:—That the soul of man isimmortal, and that God of His goodness has designed that it should be happy;and that He has, therefore, appointed rewards for good and virtuous actions,and punishments for vice, to be distributed after this life. Though theseprinciples of religion are conveyed down among them by tradition, they thinkthat even reason itself determines a man to believe and acknowledge them; andfreely confess that if these were taken away, no man would be so insensible asnot to seek after pleasure by all possible means, lawful or unlawful, usingonly this caution—that a lesser pleasure might not stand in the way of agreater, and that no pleasure ought to be pursued that should draw a great dealof pain after it; for they think it the maddest thing in the world to pursuevirtue, that is a sour and difficult thing, and not only to renounce thepleasures of life, but willingly to undergo much pain and trouble, if a man hasno prospect of a reward. And what reward can there be for one that has passedhis whole life, not only without pleasure, but in pain, if there is nothing tobe expected after death? Yet they do not place happiness in all sorts ofpleasures, but only in those that in themselves are good and honest. There is aparty among them who place happiness in bare virtue; others think that ournatures are conducted by virtue to happiness, as that which is the chief goodof man. They define virtue thus—that it is a living according to Nature,and think that we are made by God for that end; they believe that a man thenfollows the dictates of Nature when he pursues or avoids things according tothe direction of reason. They say that the first dictate of reason is thekindling in us a love and reverence for the Divine Majesty, to whom we owe bothall that we have and, all that we can ever hope for. In the next place, reasondirects us to keep our minds as free from passion and as cheerful as we can,and that we should consider ourselves as bound by the ties of good-nature andhumanity to use our utmost endeavours to help forward the happiness of allother persons; for there never was any man such a morose and severe pursuer ofvirtue, such an enemy to pleasure, that though he set hard rules for men toundergo, much pain, many watchings, and other rigors, yet did not at the sametime advise them to do all they could in order to relieve and ease themiserable, and who did not represent gentleness and good-nature as amiabledispositions. And from thence they infer that if a man ought to advance thewelfare and comfort of the rest of mankind (there being no virtue more properand peculiar to our nature than to ease the miseries of others, to free fromtrouble and anxiety, in furnishing them with the comforts of life, in whichpleasure consists) Nature much more vigorously leads them to do all this forhimself. A life of pleasure is either a real evil, and in that case we oughtnot to assist others in their pursuit of it, but, on the contrary, to keep themfrom it all we can, as from that which is most hurtful and deadly; or if it isa good thing, so that we not only may but ought to help others to it, why,then, ought not a man to begin with himself? since no man can be more bound tolook after the good of another than after his own; for Nature cannot direct usto be good and kind to others, and yet at the same time to be unmerciful andcruel to ourselves. Thus as they define virtue to be living according toNature, so they imagine that Nature prompts all people on to seek afterpleasure as the end of all they do. They also observe that in order to oursupporting the pleasures of life, Nature inclines us to enter into society; forthere is no man so much raised above the rest of mankind as to be the onlyfavourite of Nature, who, on the contrary, seems to have placed on a level allthose that belong to the same species. Upon this they infer that no man oughtto seek his own conveniences so eagerly as to prejudice others; and thereforethey think that not only all agreements between private persons ought to beobserved, but likewise that all those laws ought to be kept which either a goodprince has published in due form, or to which a people that is neitheroppressed with tyranny nor circumvented by fraud has consented, fordistributing those conveniences of life which afford us all our pleasures.

“They think it is an evidence of true wisdom for a man to pursue his ownadvantage as far as the laws allow it, they account it piety to prefer thepublic good to one’s private concerns, but they think it unjust for a manto seek for pleasure by snatching another man’s pleasures from him; and,on the contrary, they think it a sign of a gentle and good soul for a man todispense with his own advantage for the good of others, and that by this meansa good man finds as much pleasure one way as he parts with another; for as hemay expect the like from others when he may come to need it, so, if that shouldfail him, yet the sense of a good action, and the reflections that he makes onthe love and gratitude of those whom he has so obliged, gives the mind morepleasure than the body could have found in that from which it had restraineditself. They are also persuaded that God will make up the loss of those smallpleasures with a vast and endless joy, of which religion easily convinces agood soul.

“Thus, upon an inquiry into the whole matter, they reckon that all ouractions, and even all our virtues, terminate in pleasure, as in our chief endand greatest happiness; and they call every motion or state, either of body ormind, in which Nature teaches us to delight, a pleasure. Thus they cautiouslylimit pleasure only to those appetites to which Nature leads us; for they saythat Nature leads us only to those delights to which reason, as well as sense,carries us, and by which we neither injure any other person nor lose thepossession of greater pleasures, and of such as draw no troubles after them.But they look upon those delights which men by a foolish, though common,mistake call pleasure, as if they could change as easily the nature of thingsas the use of words, as things that greatly obstruct their real happiness,instead of advancing it, because they so entirely possess the minds of thosethat are once captivated by them with a false notion of pleasure that there isno room left for pleasures of a truer or purer kind.

“There are many things that in themselves have nothing that is trulydelightful; on the contrary, they have a good deal of bitterness in them; andyet, from our perverse appetites after forbidden objects, are not only rankedamong the pleasures, but are made even the greatest designs, of life. Amongthose who pursue these sophisticated pleasures they reckon such as I mentionedbefore, who think themselves really the better for having fine clothes; inwhich they think they are doubly mistaken, both in the opinion they have oftheir clothes, and in that they have of themselves. For if you consider the useof clothes, why should a fine thread be thought better than a coarse one? Andyet these men, as if they had some real advantages beyond others, and did notowe them wholly to their mistakes, look big, seem to fancy themselves to bemore valuable, and imagine that a respect is due to them for the sake of a richgarment, to which they would not have pretended if they had been more meanlyclothed, and even resent it as an affront if that respect is not paid them. Itis also a great folly to be taken with outward marks of respect, which signifynothing; for what true or real pleasure can one man find in another’sstanding bare or making legs to him? Will the bending another man’s kneesgive ease to yours? and will the head’s being bare cure the madness ofyours? And yet it is wonderful to see how this false notion of pleasurebewitches many who delight themselves with the fancy of their nobility, and arepleased with this conceit—that they are descended from ancestors who havebeen held for some successions rich, and who have had great possessions; forthis is all that makes nobility at present. Yet they do not think themselves awhit the less noble, though their immediate parents have left none of thiswealth to them, or though they themselves have squandered it away. The Utopianshave no better opinion of those who are much taken with gems and preciousstones, and who account it a degree of happiness next to a divine one if theycan purchase one that is very extraordinary, especially if it be of that sortof stones that is then in greatest request, for the same sort is not at alltimes universally of the same value, nor will men buy it unless it bedismounted and taken out of the gold. The jeweller is then made to give goodsecurity, and required solemnly to swear that the stone is true, that, by suchan exact caution, a false one might not be bought instead of a true; though, ifyou were to examine it, your eye could find no difference between thecounterfeit and that which is true; so that they are all one to you, as much asif you were blind. Or can it be thought that they who heap up a useless mass ofwealth, not for any use that it is to bring them, but merely to pleasethemselves with the contemplation of it, enjoy any true pleasure in it? Thedelight they find is only a false shadow of joy. Those are no better whoseerror is somewhat different from the former, and who hide it out of their fearof losing it; for what other name can fit the hiding it in the earth, or,rather, the restoring it to it again, it being thus cut off from being usefuleither to its owner or to the rest of mankind? And yet the owner, having hid itcarefully, is glad, because he thinks he is now sure of it. If it should bestole, the owner, though he might live perhaps ten years after the theft, ofwhich he knew nothing, would find no difference between his having or losingit, for both ways it was equally useless to him.

“Among those foolish pursuers of pleasure they reckon all that delight inhunting, in fowling, or gaming, of whose madness they have only heard, for theyhave no such things among them. But they have asked us, ‘What sort ofpleasure is it that men can find in throwing the dice?’ (for if therewere any pleasure in it, they think the doing it so often should give one asurfeit of it); ‘and what pleasure can one find in hearing the barkingand howling of dogs, which seem rather odious than pleasant sounds?’ Norcan they comprehend the pleasure of seeing dogs run after a hare, more than ofseeing one dog run after another; for if the seeing them run is that whichgives the pleasure, you have the same entertainment to the eye on both theseoccasions, since that is the same in both cases. But if the pleasure lies inseeing the hare killed and torn by the dogs, this ought rather to stir pity,that a weak, harmless, and fearful hare should be devoured by strong, fierce,and cruel dogs. Therefore all this business of hunting is, among the Utopians,turned over to their butchers, and those, as has been already said, are allslaves, and they look on hunting as one of the basest parts of abutcher’s work, for they account it both more profitable and more decentto kill those beasts that are more necessary and useful to mankind, whereas thekilling and tearing of so small and miserable an animal can only attract thehuntsman with a false show of pleasure, from which he can reap but smalladvantage. They look on the desire of the bloodshed, even of beasts, as a markof a mind that is already corrupted with cruelty, or that at least, by toofrequent returns of so brutal a pleasure, must degenerate into it.

“Thus though the rabble of mankind look upon these, and on innumerableother things of the same nature, as pleasures, the Utopians, on the contrary,observing that there is nothing in them truly pleasant, conclude that they arenot to be reckoned among pleasures; for though these things may create sometickling in the senses (which seems to be a true notion of pleasure), yet theyimagine that this does not arise from the thing itself, but from a depravedcustom, which may so vitiate a man’s taste that bitter things may passfor sweet, as women with child think pitch or tallow taste sweeter than honey;but as a man’s sense, when corrupted either by a disease or some illhabit, does not change the nature of other things, so neither can it change thenature of pleasure.

“They reckon up several sorts of pleasures, which they call true ones;some belong to the body, and others to the mind. The pleasures of the mind liein knowledge, and in that delight which the contemplation of truth carries withit; to which they add the joyful reflections on a well-spent life, and theassured hopes of a future happiness. They divide the pleasures of the body intotwo sorts—the one is that which gives our senses some real delight, andis performed either by recruiting Nature and supplying those parts which feedthe internal heat of life by eating and drinking, or when Nature is eased ofany surcharge that oppresses it, when we are relieved from sudden pain, or thatwhich arises from satisfying the appetite which Nature has wisely given to leadus to the propagation of the species. There is another kind of pleasure thatarises neither from our receiving what the body requires, nor its beingrelieved when overcharged, and yet, by a secret unseen virtue, affects thesenses, raises the passions, and strikes the mind with generousimpressions—this is, the pleasure that arises from music. Another kind ofbodily pleasure is that which results from an undisturbed and vigorousconstitution of body, when life and active spirits seem to actuate every part.This lively health, when entirely free from all mixture of pain, of itselfgives an inward pleasure, independent of all external objects of delight; andthough this pleasure does not so powerfully affect us, nor act so strongly onthe senses as some of the others, yet it may be esteemed as the greatest of allpleasures; and almost all the Utopians reckon it the foundation and basis ofall the other joys of life, since this alone makes the state of life easy anddesirable, and when this is wanting, a man is really capable of no otherpleasure. They look upon freedom from pain, if it does not rise from perfecthealth, to be a state of stupidity rather than of pleasure. This subject hasbeen very narrowly canvassed among them, and it has been debated whether a firmand entire health could be called a pleasure or not. Some have thought thatthere was no pleasure but what was ‘excited’ by some sensiblemotion in the body. But this opinion has been long ago excluded from amongthem; so that now they almost universally agree that health is the greatest ofall bodily pleasures; and that as there is a pain in sickness which is asopposite in its nature to pleasure as sickness itself is to health, so theyhold that health is accompanied with pleasure. And if any should say thatsickness is not really pain, but that it only carries pain along with it, theylook upon that as a fetch of subtlety that does not much alter the matter. Itis all one, in their opinion, whether it be said that health is in itself apleasure, or that it begets a pleasure, as fire gives heat, so it be grantedthat all those whose health is entire have a true pleasure in the enjoyment ofit. And they reason thus:—‘What is the pleasure of eating, but thata man’s health, which had been weakened, does, with the assistance offood, drive away hunger, and so recruiting itself, recovers its former vigour?And being thus refreshed it finds a pleasure in that conflict; and if theconflict is pleasure, the victory must yet breed a greater pleasure, except wefancy that it becomes stupid as soon as it has obtained that which it pursued,and so neither knows nor rejoices in its own welfare.’ If it is said thathealth cannot be felt, they absolutely deny it; for what man is in health, thatdoes not perceive it when he is awake? Is there any man that is so dull andstupid as not to acknowledge that he feels a delight in health? And what isdelight but another name for pleasure?

“But, of all pleasures, they esteem those to be most valuable that lie inthe mind, the chief of which arise out of true virtue and the witness of a goodconscience. They account health the chief pleasure that belongs to the body;for they think that the pleasure of eating and drinking, and all the otherdelights of sense, are only so far desirable as they give or maintain health;but they are not pleasant in themselves otherwise than as they resist thoseimpressions that our natural infirmities are still making upon us. For as awise man desires rather to avoid diseases than to take physic, and to be freedfrom pain rather than to find ease by remedies, so it is more desirable not toneed this sort of pleasure than to be obliged to indulge it. If any manimagines that there is a real happiness in these enjoyments, he must thenconfess that he would be the happiest of all men if he were to lead his life inperpetual hunger, thirst, and itching, and, by consequence, in perpetualeating, drinking, and scratching himself; which any one may easily see would benot only a base, but a miserable, state of a life. These are, indeed, thelowest of pleasures, and the least pure, for we can never relish them but whenthey are mixed with the contrary pains. The pain of hunger must give us thepleasure of eating, and here the pain out-balances the pleasure. And as thepain is more vehement, so it lasts much longer; for as it begins before thepleasure, so it does not cease but with the pleasure that extinguishes it, andboth expire together. They think, therefore, none of those pleasures are to bevalued any further than as they are necessary; yet they rejoice in them, andwith due gratitude acknowledge the tenderness of the great Author of Nature,who has planted in us appetites, by which those things that are necessary forour preservation are likewise made pleasant to us. For how miserable a thingwould life be if those daily diseases of hunger and thirst were to be carriedoff by such bitter drugs as we must use for those diseases that return seldomerupon us! And thus these pleasant, as well as proper, gifts of Nature maintainthe strength and the sprightliness of our bodies.

“They also entertain themselves with the other delights let in at theireyes, their ears, and their nostrils as the pleasant relishes and seasoning oflife, which Nature seems to have marked out peculiarly for man, since no othersort of animals contemplates the figure and beauty of the universe, nor isdelighted with smells any further than as they distinguish meats by them; nordo they apprehend the concords or discords of sound. Yet, in all pleasureswhatsoever, they take care that a lesser joy does not hinder a greater, andthat pleasure may never breed pain, which they think always follows dishonestpleasures. But they think it madness for a man to wear out the beauty of hisface or the force of his natural strength, to corrupt the sprightliness of hisbody by sloth and laziness, or to waste it by fasting; that it is madness toweaken the strength of his constitution and reject the other delights of life,unless by renouncing his own satisfaction he can either serve the public orpromote the happiness of others, for which he expects a greater recompense fromGod. So that they look on such a course of life as the mark of a mind that isboth cruel to itself and ungrateful to the Author of Nature, as if we would notbe beholden to Him for His favours, and therefore rejects all His blessings; asone who should afflict himself for the empty shadow of virtue, or for no betterend than to render himself capable of bearing those misfortunes which possiblywill never happen.

“This is their notion of virtue and of pleasure: they think that noman’s reason can carry him to a truer idea of them unless some discoveryfrom heaven should inspire him with sublimer notions. I have not now theleisure to examine whether they think right or wrong in this matter; nor do Ijudge it necessary, for I have only undertaken to give you an account of theirconstitution, but not to defend all their principles. I am sure that whatevermay be said of their notions, there is not in the whole world either a betterpeople or a happier government. Their bodies are vigorous and lively; andthough they are but of a middle stature, and have neither the fruitfullest soilnor the purest air in the world; yet they fortify themselves so well, by theirtemperate course of life, against the unhealthiness of their air, and by theirindustry they so cultivate their soil, that there is nowhere to be seen agreater increase, both of corn and cattle, nor are there anywhere healthier menand freer from diseases; for one may there see reduced to practice not only allthe art that the husbandman employs in manuring and improving an ill soil, butwhole woods plucked up by the roots, and in other places new ones planted,where there were none before. Their principal motive for this is theconvenience of carriage, that their timber may be either near their towns orgrowing on the banks of the sea, or of some rivers, so as to be floated tothem; for it is a harder work to carry wood at any distance over land thancorn. The people are industrious, apt to learn, as well as cheerful andpleasant, and none can endure more labour when it is necessary; but, except inthat case, they love their ease. They are unwearied pursuers of knowledge; forwhen we had given them some hints of the learning and discipline of the Greeks,concerning whom we only instructed them (for we know that there was nothingamong the Romans, except their historians and their poets, that they wouldvalue much), it was strange to see how eagerly they were set on learning thatlanguage: we began to read a little of it to them, rather in compliance withtheir importunity than out of any hopes of their reaping from it any greatadvantage: but, after a very short trial, we found they made such progress,that we saw our labour was like to be more successful than we could haveexpected: they learned to write their characters and to pronounce theirlanguage so exactly, had so quick an apprehension, they remembered it sofaithfully, and became so ready and correct in the use of it, that it wouldhave looked like a miracle if the greater part of those whom we taught had notbeen men both of extraordinary capacity and of a fit age for instruction: theywere, for the greatest part, chosen from among their learned men by their chiefcouncil, though some studied it of their own accord. In three years’ timethey became masters of the whole language, so that they read the best of theGreek authors very exactly. I am, indeed, apt to think that they learned thatlanguage the more easily from its having some relation to their own. I believethat they were a colony of the Greeks; for though their language comes nearerthe Persian, yet they retain many names, both for their towns and magistrates,that are of Greek derivation. I happened to carry a great many books with me,instead of merchandise, when I sailed my fourth voyage; for I was so far fromthinking of soon coming back, that I rather thought never to have returned atall, and I gave them all my books, among which were many of Plato’s andsome of Aristotle’s works: I had also Theophrastus on Plants, which, tomy great regret, was imperfect; for having laid it carelessly by, while we wereat sea, a monkey had seized upon it, and in many places torn out the leaves.They have no books of grammar but Lascares, for I did not carry Theodorus withme; nor have they any dictionaries but Hesichius and Dioscerides. They esteemPlutarch highly, and were much taken with Lucian’s wit and with hispleasant way of writing. As for the poets, they have Aristophanes, Homer,Euripides, and Sophocles of Aldus’s edition; and for historians,Thucydides, Herodotus, and Herodian. One of my companions, Thricius Apinatus,happened to carry with him some of Hippocrates’s works and Galen’sMicrotechne, which they hold in great estimation; for though there is no nationin the world that needs physic so little as they do, yet there is not any thathonours it so much; they reckon the knowledge of it one of the pleasantest andmost profitable parts of philosophy, by which, as they search into the secretsof nature, so they not only find this study highly agreeable, but think thatsuch inquiries are very acceptable to the Author of nature; and imagine, thatas He, like the inventors of curious engines amongst mankind, has exposed thisgreat machine of the universe to the view of the only creatures capable ofcontemplating it, so an exact and curious observer, who admires Hisworkmanship, is much more acceptable to Him than one of the herd, who, like abeast incapable of reason, looks on this glorious scene with the eyes of a dulland unconcerned spectator.

“The minds of the Utopians, when fenced with a love for learning, arevery ingenious in discovering all such arts as are necessary to carry it toperfection. Two things they owe to us, the manufacture of paper and the art ofprinting; yet they are not so entirely indebted to us for these discoveries butthat a great part of the invention was their own. We showed them some booksprinted by Aldus, we explained to them the way of making paper and the mysteryof printing; but, as we had never practised these arts, we described them in acrude and superficial manner. They seized the hints we gave them; and though atfirst they could not arrive at perfection, yet by making many essays they atlast found out and corrected all their errors and conquered every difficulty.Before this they only wrote on parchment, on reeds, or on the barks of trees;but now they have established the manufactures of paper and set up printingpresses, so that, if they had but a good number of Greek authors, they would bequickly supplied with many copies of them: at present, though they have no morethan those I have mentioned, yet, by several impressions, they have multipliedthem into many thousands. If any man was to go among them that had someextraordinary talent, or that by much travelling had observed the customs ofmany nations (which made us to be so well received), he would receive a heartywelcome, for they are very desirous to know the state of the whole world. Veryfew go among them on the account of traffic; for what can a man carry to thembut iron, or gold, or silver? which merchants desire rather to export thanimport to a strange country: and as for their exportation, they think it betterto manage that themselves than to leave it to foreigners, for by this means, asthey understand the state of the neighbouring countries better, so they keep upthe art of navigation which cannot be maintained but by much practice.

OF THEIR SLAVES, AND OF THEIR MARRIAGES

“They do not make slaves of prisoners of war, except those that are takenin battle, nor of the sons of their slaves, nor of those of other nations: theslaves among them are only such as are condemned to that state of life for thecommission of some crime, or, which is more common, such as their merchantsfind condemned to die in those parts to which they trade, whom they sometimesredeem at low rates, and in other places have them for nothing. They are keptat perpetual labour, and are always chained, but with this difference, thattheir own natives are treated much worse than others: they are considered asmore profligate than the rest, and since they could not be restrained by theadvantages of so excellent an education, are judged worthy of harder usage.Another sort of slaves are the poor of the neighbouring countries, who offer oftheir own accord to come and serve them: they treat these better, and use themin all other respects as well as their own countrymen, except their imposingmore labour upon them, which is no hard task to those that have been accustomedto it; and if any of these have a mind to go back to their own country, which,indeed, falls out but seldom, as they do not force them to stay, so they do notsend them away empty-handed.

“I have already told you with what care they look after their sick, sothat nothing is left undone that can contribute either to their ease or health;and for those who are taken with fixed and incurable diseases, they use allpossible ways to cherish them and to make their lives as comfortable aspossible. They visit them often and take great pains to make their time passoff easily; but when any is taken with a torturing and lingering pain, so thatthere is no hope either of recovery or ease, the priests and magistrates comeand exhort them, that, since they are now unable to go on with the business oflife, are become a burden to themselves and to all about them, and they havereally out-lived themselves, they should no longer nourish such a rooteddistemper, but choose rather to die since they cannot live but in much misery;being assured that if they thus deliver themselves from torture, or are willingthat others should do it, they shall be happy after death: since, by theiracting thus, they lose none of the pleasures, but only the troubles of life,they think they behave not only reasonably but in a manner consistent withreligion and piety; because they follow the advice given them by their priests,who are the expounders of the will of God. Such as are wrought on by thesepersuasions either starve themselves of their own accord, or take opium, and bythat means die without pain. But no man is forced on this way of ending hislife; and if they cannot be persuaded to it, this does not induce them to failin their attendance and care of them: but as they believe that a voluntarydeath, when it is chosen upon such an authority, is very honourable, so if anyman takes away his own life without the approbation of the priests and thesenate, they give him none of the honours of a decent funeral, but throw hisbody into a ditch.

“Their women are not married before eighteen nor their men beforetwo-and-twenty, and if any of them run into forbidden embraces before marriagethey are severely punished, and the privilege of marriage is denied them unlessthey can obtain a special warrant from the Prince. Such disorders cast a greatreproach upon the master and mistress of the family in which they happen, forit is supposed that they have failed in their duty. The reason of punishingthis so severely is, because they think that if they were not strictlyrestrained from all vagrant appetites, very few would engage in a state inwhich they venture the quiet of their whole lives, by being confined to oneperson, and are obliged to endure all the inconveniences with which it isaccompanied. In choosing their wives they use a method that would appear to usvery absurd and ridiculous, but it is constantly observed among them, and isaccounted perfectly consistent with wisdom. Before marriage some grave matronpresents the bride, naked, whether she is a virgin or a widow, to thebridegroom, and after that some grave man presents the bridegroom, naked, tothe bride. We, indeed, both laughed at this, and condemned it as very indecent.But they, on the other hand, wondered at the folly of the men of all othernations, who, if they are but to buy a horse of a small value, are so cautiousthat they will see every part of him, and take off both his saddle and all hisother tackle, that there may be no secret ulcer hid under any of them, and thatyet in the choice of a wife, on which depends the happiness or unhappiness ofthe rest of his life, a man should venture upon trust, and only see about ahandsbreadth of the face, all the rest of the body being covered, under whichmay lie hid what may be contagious as well as loathsome. All men are not sowise as to choose a woman only for her good qualities, and even wise menconsider the body as that which adds not a little to the mind, and it iscertain there may be some such deformity covered with clothes as may totallyalienate a man from his wife, when it is too late to part with her; if such athing is discovered after marriage a man has no remedy but patience; they,therefore, think it is reasonable that there should be good provision madeagainst such mischievous frauds.

“There was so much the more reason for them to make a regulation in thismatter, because they are the only people of those parts that neither allow ofpolygamy nor of divorces, except in the case of adultery or insufferableperverseness, for in these cases the Senate dissolves the marriage and grantsthe injured person leave to marry again; but the guilty are made infamous andare never allowed the privilege of a second marriage. None are suffered to putaway their wives against their wills, from any great calamity that may havefallen on their persons, for they look on it as the height of cruelty andtreachery to abandon either of the married persons when they need most thetender care of their consort, and that chiefly in the case of old age, which,as it carries many diseases along with it, so it is a disease of itself. But itfrequently falls out that when a married couple do not well agree, they, bymutual consent, separate, and find out other persons with whom they hope theymay live more happily; yet this is not done without obtaining leave of theSenate, which never admits of a divorce but upon a strict inquiry made, both bythe senators and their wives, into the grounds upon which it is desired, andeven when they are satisfied concerning the reasons of it they go on butslowly, for they imagine that too great easiness in granting leave for newmarriages would very much shake the kindness of married people. They punishseverely those that defile the marriage bed; if both parties are married theyare divorced, and the injured persons may marry one another, or whom theyplease, but the adulterer and the adulteress are condemned to slavery, yet ifeither of the injured persons cannot shake off the love of the married personthey may live with them still in that state, but they must follow them to thatlabour to which the slaves are condemned, and sometimes the repentance of thecondemned, together with the unshaken kindness of the innocent and injuredperson, has prevailed so far with the Prince that he has taken off thesentence; but those that relapse after they are once pardoned are punished withdeath.

“Their law does not determine the punishment for other crimes, but thatis left to the Senate, to temper it according to the circ*mstances of the fact.Husbands have power to correct their wives and parents to chastise theirchildren, unless the fault is so great that a public punishment is thoughtnecessary for striking terror into others. For the most part slavery is thepunishment even of the greatest crimes, for as that is no less terrible to thecriminals themselves than death, so they think the preserving them in a stateof servitude is more for the interest of the commonwealth than killing them,since, as their labour is a greater benefit to the public than their deathcould be, so the sight of their misery is a more lasting terror to other menthan that which would be given by their death. If their slaves rebel, and willnot bear their yoke and submit to the labour that is enjoined them, they aretreated as wild beasts that cannot be kept in order, neither by a prison nor bytheir chains, and are at last put to death. But those who bear their punishmentpatiently, and are so much wrought on by that pressure that lies so hard onthem, that it appears they are really more troubled for the crimes they havecommitted than for the miseries they suffer, are not out of hope, but that, atlast, either the Prince will, by his prerogative, or the people, by theirintercession, restore them again to their liberty, or, at least, very muchmitigate their slavery. He that tempts a married woman to adultery is no lessseverely punished than he that commits it, for they believe that a deliberatedesign to commit a crime is equal to the fact itself, since its not takingeffect does not make the person that miscarried in his attempt at all the lessguilty.

“They take great pleasure in fools, and as it is thought a base andunbecoming thing to use them ill, so they do not think it amiss for people todivert themselves with their folly; and, in their opinion, this is a greatadvantage to the fools themselves; for if men were so sullen and severe as notat all to please themselves with their ridiculous behaviour and foolishsayings, which is all that they can do to recommend themselves to others, itcould not be expected that they would be so well provided for nor so tenderlyused as they must otherwise be. If any man should reproach another for hisbeing misshaped or imperfect in any part of his body, it would not at all bethought a reflection on the person so treated, but it would be accountedscandalous in him that had upbraided another with what he could not help. It isthought a sign of a sluggish and sordid mind not to preserve carefullyone’s natural beauty; but it is likewise infamous among them to usepaint. They all see that no beauty recommends a wife so much to her husband asthe probity of her life and her obedience; for as some few are caught and heldonly by beauty, so all are attracted by the other excellences which charm allthe world.

“As they fright men from committing crimes by punishments, so they invitethem to the love of virtue by public honours; therefore they erect statues tothe memories of such worthy men as have deserved well of their country, and setthese in their market-places, both to perpetuate the remembrance of theiractions and to be an incitement to their posterity to follow their example.

“If any man aspires to any office he is sure never to compass it. Theyall live easily together, for none of the magistrates are either insolent orcruel to the people; they affect rather to be called fathers, and, by beingreally so, they well deserve the name; and the people pay them all the marks ofhonour the more freely because none are exacted from them. The Prince himselfhas no distinction, either of garments or of a crown; but is only distinguishedby a sheaf of corn carried before him; as the High Priest is also known by hisbeing preceded by a person carrying a wax light.

“They have but few laws, and such is their constitution that they neednot many. They very much condemn other nations whose laws, together with thecommentaries on them, swell up to so many volumes; for they think it anunreasonable thing to oblige men to obey a body of laws that are both of such abulk, and so dark as not to be read and understood by every one of thesubjects.

“They have no lawyers among them, for they consider them as a sort ofpeople whose profession it is to disguise matters and to wrest the laws, and,therefore, they think it is much better that every man should plead his owncause, and trust it to the judge, as in other places the client trusts it to acounsellor; by this means they both cut off many delays and find out truth morecertainly; for after the parties have laid open the merits of the cause,without those artifices which lawyers are apt to suggest, the judge examinesthe whole matter, and supports the simplicity of such well-meaning persons,whom otherwise crafty men would be sure to run down; and thus they avoid thoseevils which appear very remarkably among all those nations that labour under avast load of laws. Every one of them is skilled in their law; for, as it is avery short study, so the plainest meaning of which words are capable is alwaysthe sense of their laws; and they argue thus: all laws are promulgated for thisend, that every man may know his duty; and, therefore, the plainest and mostobvious sense of the words is that which ought to be put upon them, since amore refined exposition cannot be easily comprehended, and would only serve tomake the laws become useless to the greater part of mankind, and especially tothose who need most the direction of them; for it is all one not to make a lawat all or to couch it in such terms that, without a quick apprehension and muchstudy, a man cannot find out the true meaning of it, since the generality ofmankind are both so dull, and so much employed in their several trades, thatthey have neither the leisure nor the capacity requisite for such an inquiry.

“Some of their neighbours, who are masters of their own liberties (havinglong ago, by the assistance of the Utopians, shaken off the yoke of tyranny,and being much taken with those virtues which they observe among them), havecome to desire that they would send magistrates to govern them, some changingthem every year, and others every five years; at the end of their governmentthey bring them back to Utopia, with great expressions of honour and esteem,and carry away others to govern in their stead. In this they seem to havefallen upon a very good expedient for their own happiness and safety; for sincethe good or ill condition of a nation depends so much upon their magistrates,they could not have made a better choice than by pitching on men whom noadvantages can bias; for wealth is of no use to them, since they must so soongo back to their own country, and they, being strangers among them, are notengaged in any of their heats or animosities; and it is certain that whenpublic judicatories are swayed, either by avarice or partial affections, theremust follow a dissolution of justice, the chief sinew of society.

“The Utopians call those nations that come and ask magistrates from themNeighbours; but those to whom they have been of more particular service,Friends; and as all other nations are perpetually either making leagues orbreaking them, they never enter into an alliance with any state. They thinkleagues are useless things, and believe that if the common ties of humanity donot knit men together, the faith of promises will have no great effect; andthey are the more confirmed in this by what they see among the nations roundabout them, who are no strict observers of leagues and treaties. We know howreligiously they are observed in Europe, more particularly where the Christiandoctrine is received, among whom they are sacred and inviolable! which ispartly owing to the justice and goodness of the princes themselves, and partlyto the reverence they pay to the popes, who, as they are the most religiousobservers of their own promises, so they exhort all other princes to performtheirs, and, when fainter methods do not prevail, they compel them to it by theseverity of the pastoral censure, and think that it would be the most indecentthing possible if men who are particularly distinguished by the title of‘The Faithful’ should not religiously keep the faith of theirtreaties. But in that new-found world, which is not more distant from us insituation than the people are in their manners and course of life, there is notrusting to leagues, even though they were made with all the pomp of the mostsacred ceremonies; on the contrary, they are on this account the sooner broken,some slight pretence being found in the words of the treaties, which arepurposely couched in such ambiguous terms that they can never be so strictlybound but they will always find some loophole to escape at, and thus they breakboth their leagues and their faith; and this is done with such impudence, thatthose very men who value themselves on having suggested these expedients totheir princes would, with a haughty scorn, declaim against such craft; or, tospeak plainer, such fraud and deceit, if they found private men make use of itin their bargains, and would readily say that they deserved to be hanged.

“By this means it is that all sort of justice passes in the world for alow-spirited and vulgar virtue, far below the dignity of royalgreatness—or at least there are set up two sorts of justice; the one ismean and creeps on the ground, and, therefore, becomes none but the lower partof mankind, and so must be kept in severely by many restraints, that it may notbreak out beyond the bounds that are set to it; the other is the peculiarvirtue of princes, which, as it is more majestic than that which becomes therabble, so takes a freer compass, and thus lawful and unlawful are onlymeasured by pleasure and interest. These practices of the princes that lieabout Utopia, who make so little account of their faith, seem to be the reasonsthat determine them to engage in no confederacy. Perhaps they would changetheir mind if they lived among us; but yet, though treaties were morereligiously observed, they would still dislike the custom of making them, sincethe world has taken up a false maxim upon it, as if there were no tie of natureuniting one nation to another, only separated perhaps by a mountain or a river,and that all were born in a state of hostility, and so might lawfully do allthat mischief to their neighbours against which there is no provision made bytreaties; and that when treaties are made they do not cut off the enmity orrestrain the licence of preying upon each other, if, by the unskilfulness ofwording them, there are not effectual provisoes made against them; they, on theother hand, judge that no man is to be esteemed our enemy that has neverinjured us, and that the partnership of human nature is instead of a league;and that kindness and good nature unite men more effectually and with greaterstrength than any agreements whatsoever, since thereby the engagements ofmen’s hearts become stronger than the bond and obligation of words.

OF THEIR MILITARY DISCIPLINE

They detest war as a very brutal thing, and which, to the reproach of humannature, is more practised by men than by any sort of beasts. They, inopposition to the sentiments of almost all other nations, think that there isnothing more inglorious than that glory that is gained by war; and therefore,though they accustom themselves daily to military exercises and the disciplineof war, in which not only their men, but their women likewise, are trained up,that, in cases of necessity, they may not be quite useless, yet they do notrashly engage in war, unless it be either to defend themselves or their friendsfrom any unjust aggressors, or, out of good nature or in compassion, assist anoppressed nation in shaking off the yoke of tyranny. They, indeed, help theirfriends not only in defensive but also in offensive wars; but they never dothat unless they had been consulted before the breach was made, and, beingsatisfied with the grounds on which they went, they had found that all demandsof reparation were rejected, so that a war was unavoidable. This they think tobe not only just when one neighbour makes an inroad on another by public order,and carries away the spoils, but when the merchants of one country areoppressed in another, either under pretence of some unjust laws, or by theperverse wresting of good ones. This they count a juster cause of war than theother, because those injuries are done under some colour of laws. This was theonly ground of that war in which they engaged with the Nephelogetes against theAleopolitanes, a little before our time; for the merchants of the formerhaving, as they thought, met with great injustice among the latter, which(whether it was in itself right or wrong) drew on a terrible war, in which manyof their neighbours were engaged; and their keenness in carrying it on beingsupported by their strength in maintaining it, it not only shook some veryflourishing states and very much afflicted others, but, after a series of muchmischief ended in the entire conquest and slavery of the Aleopolitanes, who,though before the war they were in all respects much superior to theNephelogetes, were yet subdued; but, though the Utopians had assisted them inthe war, yet they pretended to no share of the spoil.

“But, though they so vigorously assist their friends in obtainingreparation for the injuries they have received in affairs of this nature, yet,if any such frauds were committed against themselves, provided no violence wasdone to their persons, they would only, on their being refused satisfaction,forbear trading with such a people. This is not because they consider theirneighbours more than their own citizens; but, since their neighbours tradeevery one upon his own stock, fraud is a more sensible injury to them than itis to the Utopians, among whom the public, in such a case, only suffers, asthey expect no thing in return for the merchandise they export but that inwhich they so much abound, and is of little use to them, the loss does not muchaffect them. They think, therefore, it would be too severe to revenge a lossattended with so little inconvenience, either to their lives or theirsubsistence, with the death of many persons; but if any of their people areeither killed or wounded wrongfully, whether it be done by public authority, oronly by private men, as soon as they hear of it they send ambassadors, anddemand that the guilty persons may be delivered up to them, and if that isdenied, they declare war; but if it be complied with, the offenders arecondemned either to death or slavery.

“They would be both troubled and ashamed of a bloody victory over theirenemies; and think it would be as foolish a purchase as to buy the mostvaluable goods at too high a rate. And in no victory do they glory so much asin that which is gained by dexterity and good conduct without bloodshed. Insuch cases they appoint public triumphs, and erect trophies to the honour ofthose who have succeeded; for then do they reckon that a man acts suitably tohis nature, when he conquers his enemy in such a way as that no other creaturebut a man could be capable of, and that is by the strength of hisunderstanding. Bears, lions, boars, wolves, and dogs, and all other animals,employ their bodily force one against another, in which, as many of them aresuperior to men, both in strength and fierceness, so they are all subdued byhis reason and understanding.

“The only design of the Utopians in war is to obtain that by force which,if it had been granted them in time, would have prevented the war; or, if thatcannot be done, to take so severe a revenge on those that have injured themthat they may be terrified from doing the like for the time to come. By theseends they measure all their designs, and manage them so, that it is visiblethat the appetite of fame or vainglory does not work so much on there as a justcare of their own security.

“As soon as they declare war, they take care to have a great manyschedules, that are sealed with their common seal, affixed in the mostconspicuous places of their enemies’ country. This is carried secretly,and done in many places all at once. In these they promise great rewards tosuch as shall kill the prince, and lesser in proportion to such as shall killany other persons who are those on whom, next to the prince himself, they castthe chief balance of the war. And they double the sum to him that, instead ofkilling the person so marked out, shall take him alive, and put him in theirhands. They offer not only indemnity, but rewards, to such of the personsthemselves that are so marked, if they will act against their countrymen. Bythis means those that are named in their schedules become not only distrustfulof their fellow-citizens, but are jealous of one another, and are muchdistracted by fear and danger; for it has often fallen out that many of them,and even the prince himself, have been betrayed, by those in whom they havetrusted most; for the rewards that the Utopians offer are so immeasurablygreat, that there is no sort of crime to which men cannot be drawn by them.They consider the risk that those run who undertake such services, and offer arecompense proportioned to the danger—not only a vast deal of gold, butgreat revenues in lands, that lie among other nations that are their friends,where they may go and enjoy them very securely; and they observe the promisesthey make of their kind most religiously. They very much approve of this way ofcorrupting their enemies, though it appears to others to be base and cruel; butthey look on it as a wise course, to make an end of what would be otherwise along war, without so much as hazarding one battle to decide it. They think itlikewise an act of mercy and love to mankind to prevent the great slaughter ofthose that must otherwise be killed in the progress of the war, both on theirown side and on that of their enemies, by the death of a few that are mostguilty; and that in so doing they are kind even to their enemies, and pity themno less than their own people, as knowing that the greater part of them do notengage in the war of their own accord, but are driven into it by the passionsof their prince.

“If this method does not succeed with them, then they sow seeds ofcontention among their enemies, and animate the prince’s brother, or someof the nobility, to aspire to the crown. If they cannot disunite them bydomestic broils, then they engage their neighbours against them, and make themset on foot some old pretensions, which are never wanting to princes when theyhave occasion for them. These they plentifully supply with money, though butvery sparingly with any auxiliary troops; for they are so tender of their ownpeople that they would not willingly exchange one of them, even with the princeof their enemies’ country.

“But as they keep their gold and silver only for such an occasion, so,when that offers itself, they easily part with it; since it would be noconvenience to them, though they should reserve nothing of it to themselves.For besides the wealth that they have among them at home, they have a vasttreasure abroad; many nations round about them being deep in their debt: sothat they hire soldiers from all places for carrying on their wars; but chieflyfrom the Zapolets, who live five hundred miles east of Utopia. They are a rude,wild, and fierce nation, who delight in the woods and rocks, among which theywere born and bred up. They are hardened both against heat, cold, and labour,and know nothing of the delicacies of life. They do not apply themselves toagriculture, nor do they care either for their houses or their clothes: cattleis all that they look after; and for the greatest part they live either byhunting or upon rapine; and are made, as it were, only for war. They watch allopportunities of engaging in it, and very readily embrace such as are offeredthem. Great numbers of them will frequently go out, and offer themselves for avery low pay, to serve any that will employ them: they know none of the arts oflife, but those that lead to the taking it away; they serve those that hirethem, both with much courage and great fidelity; but will not engage to servefor any determined time, and agree upon such terms, that the next day they maygo over to the enemies of those whom they serve if they offer them a greaterencouragement; and will, perhaps, return to them the day after that upon ahigher advance of their pay. There are few wars in which they make not aconsiderable part of the armies of both sides: so it often falls out that theywho are related, and were hired in the same country, and so have lived long andfamiliarly together, forgetting both their relations and former friendship,kill one another upon no other consideration than that of being hired to it fora little money by princes of different interests; and such a regard have theyfor money that they are easily wrought on by the difference of one penny a dayto change sides. So entirely does their avarice influence them; and yet thismoney, which they value so highly, is of little use to them; for what theypurchase thus with their blood they quickly waste on luxury, which among themis but of a poor and miserable form.

“This nation serves the Utopians against all people whatsoever, for theypay higher than any other. The Utopians hold this for a maxim, that as theyseek out the best sort of men for their own use at home, so they make use ofthis worst sort of men for the consumption of war; and therefore they hire themwith the offers of vast rewards to expose themselves to all sorts of hazards,out of which the greater part never returns to claim their promises; yet theymake them good most religiously to such as escape. This animates them toadventure again, whenever there is occasion for it; for the Utopians are not atall troubled how many of these happen to be killed, and reckon it a servicedone to mankind if they could be a means to deliver the world from such a lewdand vicious sort of people, that seem to have run together, as to the drain ofhuman nature. Next to these, they are served in their wars with those uponwhose account they undertake them, and with the auxiliary troops of their otherfriends, to whom they join a few of their own people, and send some man ofeminent and approved virtue to command in chief. There are two sent with him,who, during his command, are but private men, but the first is to succeed himif he should happen to be either killed or taken; and, in case of the likemisfortune to him, the third comes in his place; and thus they provide againstall events, that such accidents as may befall their generals may not endangertheir armies. When they draw out troops of their own people, they take such outof every city as freely offer themselves, for none are forced to go againsttheir wills, since they think that if any man is pressed that wants courage, hewill not only act faintly, but by his cowardice dishearten others. But if aninvasion is made on their country, they make use of such men, if they have goodbodies, though they are not brave; and either put them aboard their ships, orplace them on the walls of their towns, that being so posted, they may find noopportunity of flying away; and thus either shame, the heat of action, or theimpossibility of flying, bears down their cowardice; they often make a virtueof necessity, and behave themselves well, because nothing else is left them.But as they force no man to go into any foreign war against his will, so theydo not hinder those women who are willing to go along with their husbands; onthe contrary, they encourage and praise them, and they stand often next theirhusbands in the front of the army. They also place together those who arerelated, parents, and children, kindred, and those that are mutually allied,near one another; that those whom nature has inspired with the greatest zealfor assisting one another may be the nearest and readiest to do it; and it ismatter of great reproach if husband or wife survive one another, or if a childsurvives his parent, and therefore when they come to be engaged in action, theycontinue to fight to the last man, if their enemies stand before them: and asthey use all prudent methods to avoid the endangering their own men, and if itis possible let all the action and danger fall upon the troops that they hire,so if it becomes necessary for themselves to engage, they then charge with asmuch courage as they avoided it before with prudence: nor is it a fierce chargeat first, but it increases by degrees; and as they continue in action, theygrow more obstinate, and press harder upon the enemy, insomuch that they willmuch sooner die than give ground; for the certainty that their children will bewell looked after when they are dead frees them from all that anxietyconcerning them which often masters men of great courage; and thus they areanimated by a noble and invincible resolution. Their skill in military affairsincreases their courage: and the wise sentiments which, according to the lawsof their country, are instilled into them in their education, give additionalvigour to their minds: for as they do not undervalue life so as prodigally tothrow it away, they are not so indecently fond of it as to preserve it by baseand unbecoming methods. In the greatest heat of action the bravest of theiryouth, who have devoted themselves to that service, single out the general oftheir enemies, set on him either openly or by ambuscade; pursue him everywhere,and when spent and wearied out, are relieved by others, who never give over thepursuit, either attacking him with close weapons when they can get near him, orwith those which wound at a distance, when others get in between them. So that,unless he secures himself by flight, they seldom fail at last to kill or totake him prisoner. When they have obtained a victory, they kill as few aspossible, and are much more bent on taking many prisoners than on killing thosethat fly before them. Nor do they ever let their men so loose in the pursuit oftheir enemies as not to retain an entire body still in order; so that if theyhave been forced to engage the last of their battalions before they could gainthe day, they will rather let their enemies all escape than pursue them whentheir own army is in disorder; remembering well what has often fallen out tothemselves, that when the main body of their army has been quite defeated andbroken, when their enemies, imagining the victory obtained, have let themselvesloose into an irregular pursuit, a few of them that lay for a reserve, waitinga fit opportunity, have fallen on them in their chase, and when straggling indisorder, and apprehensive of no danger, but counting the day their own, haveturned the whole action, and, wresting out of their hands a victory that seemedcertain and undoubted, while the vanquished have suddenly become victorious.

“It is hard to tell whether they are more dexterous in laying or avoidingambushes. They sometimes seem to fly when it is far from their thoughts; andwhen they intend to give ground, they do it so that it is very hard to find outtheir design. If they see they are ill posted, or are like to be overpowered bynumbers, they then either march off in the night with great silence, or by somestratagem delude their enemies. If they retire in the day-time, they do it insuch order that it is no less dangerous to fall upon them in a retreat than ina march. They fortify their camps with a deep and large trench; and throw upthe earth that is dug out of it for a wall; nor do they employ only theirslaves in this, but the whole army works at it, except those that are then uponthe guard; so that when so many hands are at work, a great line and a strongfortification is finished in so short a time that it is scarce credible. Theirarmour is very strong for defence, and yet is not so heavy as to make themuneasy in their marches; they can even swim with it. All that are trained up towar practise swimming. Both horse and foot make great use of arrows, and arevery expert. They have no swords, but fight with a pole-axe that is both sharpand heavy, by which they thrust or strike down an enemy. They are very good atfinding out warlike machines, and disguise them so well that the enemy does notperceive them till he feels the use of them; so that he cannot prepare such adefence as would render them useless; the chief consideration had in the makingthem is that they may be easily carried and managed.

“If they agree to a truce, they observe it so religiously that noprovocations will make them break it. They never lay their enemies’country waste nor burn their corn, and even in their marches they take allpossible care that neither horse nor foot may tread it down, for they do notknow but that they may have use for it themselves. They hurt no man whom theyfind disarmed, unless he is a spy. When a town is surrendered to them, theytake it into their protection; and when they carry a place by storm they neverplunder it, but put those only to the sword that oppose the rendering of it up,and make the rest of the garrison slaves, but for the other inhabitants, theydo them no hurt; and if any of them had advised a surrender, they give themgood rewards out of the estates of those that they condemn, and distribute therest among their auxiliary troops, but they themselves take no share of thespoil.

“When a war is ended, they do not oblige their friends to reimburse theirexpenses; but they obtain them of the conquered, either in money, which theykeep for the next occasion, or in lands, out of which a constant revenue is tobe paid them; by many increases the revenue which they draw out from severalcountries on such occasions is now risen to above 700,000 ducats a year. Theysend some of their own people to receive these revenues, who have orders tolive magnificently and like princes, by which means they consume much of itupon the place; and either bring over the rest to Utopia or lend it to thatnation in which it lies. This they most commonly do, unless some greatoccasion, which falls out but very seldom, should oblige them to call for itall. It is out of these lands that they assign rewards to such as theyencourage to adventure on desperate attempts. If any prince that engages in warwith them is making preparations for invading their country, they prevent him,and make his country the seat of the war; for they do not willingly suffer anywar to break in upon their island; and if that should happen, they would onlydefend themselves by their own people; but would not call for auxiliary troopsto their assistance.

OF THE RELIGIONS OF THE UTOPIANS

“There are several sorts of religions, not only in different parts of theisland, but even in every town; some worshipping the sun, others the moon orone of the planets. Some worship such men as have been eminent in former timesfor virtue or glory, not only as ordinary deities, but as the supreme god. Yetthe greater and wiser sort of them worship none of these, but adore oneeternal, invisible, infinite, and incomprehensible Deity; as a Being that isfar above all our apprehensions, that is spread over the whole universe, not byHis bulk, but by His power and virtue; Him they call the Father of All, andacknowledge that the beginnings, the increase, the progress, the vicissitudes,and the end of all things come only from Him; nor do they offer divine honoursto any but to Him alone. And, indeed, though they differ concerning otherthings, yet all agree in this: that they think there is one Supreme Being thatmade and governs the world, whom they call, in the language of their country,Mithras. They differ in this: that one thinks the god whom he worships is thisSupreme Being, and another thinks that his idol is that god; but they all agreein one principle, that whoever is this Supreme Being, He is also that greatessence to whose glory and majesty all honours are ascribed by the consent ofall nations.

“By degrees they fall off from the various superstitions that are amongthem, and grow up to that one religion that is the best and most in request;and there is no doubt to be made, but that all the others had vanished longago, if some of those who advised them to lay aside their superstitions had notmet with some unhappy accidents, which, being considered as inflicted byheaven, made them afraid that the god whose worship had like to have beenabandoned had interposed and revenged themselves on those who despised theirauthority.

“After they had heard from us an account of the doctrine, the course oflife, and the miracles of Christ, and of the wonderful constancy of so manymartyrs, whose blood, so willingly offered up by them, was the chief occasionof spreading their religion over a vast number of nations, it is not to beimagined how inclined they were to receive it. I shall not determine whetherthis proceeded from any secret inspiration of God, or whether it was because itseemed so favourable to that community of goods, which is an opinion soparticular as well as so dear to them; since they perceived that Christ and Hisfollowers lived by that rule, and that it was still kept up in some communitiesamong the sincerest sort of Christians. From whichsoever of these motives itmight be, true it is, that many of them came over to our religion, and wereinitiated into it by baptism. But as two of our number were dead, so none ofthe four that survived were in priests’ orders, we, therefore, could onlybaptise them, so that, to our great regret, they could not partake of the othersacraments, that can only be administered by priests, but they are instructedconcerning them and long most vehemently for them. They have had great disputesamong themselves, whether one chosen by them to be a priest would not bethereby qualified to do all the things that belong to that character, eventhough he had no authority derived from the Pope, and they seemed to beresolved to choose some for that employment, but they had not done it when Ileft them.

“Those among them that have not received our religion do not fright anyfrom it, and use none ill that goes over to it, so that all the while I wasthere one man was only punished on this occasion. He being newly baptised did,notwithstanding all that we could say to the contrary, dispute publiclyconcerning the Christian religion, with more zeal than discretion, and with somuch heat, that he not only preferred our worship to theirs, but condemned alltheir rites as profane, and cried out against all that adhered to them asimpious and sacrilegious persons, that were to be damned to everlastingburnings. Upon his having frequently preached in this manner he was seized, andafter trial he was condemned to banishment, not for having disparaged theirreligion, but for his inflaming the people to sedition; for this is one oftheir most ancient laws, that no man ought to be punished for his religion. Atthe first constitution of their government, Utopus having understood thatbefore his coming among them the old inhabitants had been engaged in greatquarrels concerning religion, by which they were so divided among themselves,that he found it an easy thing to conquer them, since, instead of uniting theirforces against him, every different party in religion fought by themselves.After he had subdued them he made a law that every man might be of whatreligion he pleased, and might endeavour to draw others to it by the force ofargument and by amicable and modest ways, but without bitterness against thoseof other opinions; but that he ought to use no other force but that ofpersuasion, and was neither to mix with it reproaches nor violence; and such asdid otherwise were to be condemned to banishment or slavery.

“This law was made by Utopus, not only for preserving the public peace,which he saw suffered much by daily contentions and irreconcilable heats, butbecause he thought the interest of religion itself required it. He judged itnot fit to determine anything rashly; and seemed to doubt whether thosedifferent forms of religion might not all come from God, who might inspire manin a different manner, and be pleased with this variety; he therefore thoughtit indecent and foolish for any man to threaten and terrify another to make himbelieve what did not appear to him to be true. And supposing that only onereligion was really true, and the rest false, he imagined that the native forceof truth would at last break forth and shine bright, if supported only by thestrength of argument, and attended to with a gentle and unprejudiced mind;while, on the other hand, if such debates were carried on with violence andtumults, as the most wicked are always the most obstinate, so the best and mostholy religion might be choked with superstition, as corn is with briars andthorns; he therefore left men wholly to their liberty, that they might be freeto believe as they should see cause; only he made a solemn and severe lawagainst such as should so far degenerate from the dignity of human nature, asto think that our souls died with our bodies, or that the world was governed bychance, without a wise overruling Providence: for they all formerly believedthat there was a state of rewards and punishments to the good and bad afterthis life; and they now look on those that think otherwise as scarce fit to becounted men, since they degrade so noble a being as the soul, and reckon it nobetter than a beast’s: thus they are far from looking on such men as fitfor human society, or to be citizens of a well-ordered commonwealth; since aman of such principles must needs, as oft as he dares do it, despise all theirlaws and customs: for there is no doubt to be made, that a man who is afraid ofnothing but the law, and apprehends nothing after death, will not scruple tobreak through all the laws of his country, either by fraud or force, when bythis means he may satisfy his appetites. They never raise any that hold thesemaxims, either to honours or offices, nor employ them in any public trust, butdespise them, as men of base and sordid minds. Yet they do not punish them,because they lay this down as a maxim, that a man cannot make himself believeanything he pleases; nor do they drive any to dissemble their thoughts bythreatenings, so that men are not tempted to lie or disguise their opinions;which being a sort of fraud, is abhorred by the Utopians: they take care indeedto prevent their disputing in defence of these opinions, especially before thecommon people: but they suffer, and even encourage them to dispute concerningthem in private with their priest, and other grave men, being confident thatthey will be cured of those mad opinions by having reason laid before them.There are many among them that run far to the other extreme, though it isneither thought an ill nor unreasonable opinion, and therefore is not at alldiscouraged. They think that the souls of beasts are immortal, though farinferior to the dignity of the human soul, and not capable of so great ahappiness. They are almost all of them very firmly persuaded that good men willbe infinitely happy in another state: so that though they are compassionate toall that are sick, yet they lament no man’s death, except they see himloath to part with life; for they look on this as a very ill presage, as if thesoul, conscious to itself of guilt, and quite hopeless, was afraid to leave thebody, from some secret hints of approaching misery. They think that such aman’s appearance before God cannot be acceptable to Him, who being calledon, does not go out cheerfully, but is backward and unwilling, and is as itwere dragged to it. They are struck with horror when they see any die in thismanner, and carry them out in silence and with sorrow, and praying God that Hewould be merciful to the errors of the departed soul, they lay the body in theground: but when any die cheerfully, and full of hope, they do not mourn forthem, but sing hymns when they carry out their bodies, and commending theirsouls very earnestly to God: their whole behaviour is then rather grave thansad, they burn the body, and set up a pillar where the pile was made, with aninscription to the honour of the deceased. When they come from the funeral,they discourse of his good life, and worthy actions, but speak of nothingoftener and with more pleasure than of his serenity at the hour of death. Theythink such respect paid to the memory of good men is both the greatestincitement to engage others to follow their example, and the most acceptableworship that can be offered them; for they believe that though by theimperfection of human sight they are invisible to us, yet they are presentamong us, and hear those discourses that pass concerning themselves. Theybelieve it inconsistent with the happiness of departed souls not to be atliberty to be where they will: and do not imagine them capable of theingratitude of not desiring to see those friends with whom they lived on earthin the strictest bonds of love and kindness: besides, they are persuaded thatgood men, after death, have these affections; and all other good dispositionsincreased rather than diminished, and therefore conclude that they are stillamong the living, and observe all they say or do. From hence they engage in alltheir affairs with the greater confidence of success, as trusting to theirprotection; while this opinion of the presence of their ancestors is arestraint that prevents their engaging in ill designs.

“They despise and laugh at auguries, and the other vain and superstitiousways of divination, so much observed among other nations; but have greatreverence for such miracles as cannot flow from any of the powers of nature,and look on them as effects and indications of the presence of the SupremeBeing, of which they say many instances have occurred among them; and thatsometimes their public prayers, which upon great and dangerous occasions theyhave solemnly put up to God, with assured confidence of being heard, have beenanswered in a miraculous manner.

“They think the contemplating God in His works, and the adoring Him forthem, is a very acceptable piece of worship to Him.

“There are many among them that upon a motive of religion neglectlearning, and apply themselves to no sort of study; nor do they allowthemselves any leisure time, but are perpetually employed, believing that bythe good things that a man does he secures to himself that happiness that comesafter death. Some of these visit the sick; others mend highways, cleanseditches, repair bridges, or dig turf, gravel, or stone. Others fell and cleavetimber, and bring wood, corn, and other necessaries, on carts, into theirtowns; nor do these only serve the public, but they serve even private men,more than the slaves themselves do: for if there is anywhere a rough, hard, andsordid piece of work to be done, from which many are frightened by the labourand loathsomeness of it, if not the despair of accomplishing it, theycheerfully, and of their own accord, take that to their share; and by thatmeans, as they ease others very much, so they afflict themselves, and spendtheir whole life in hard labour: and yet they do not value themselves uponthis, nor lessen other people’s credit to raise their own; but by theirstooping to such servile employments they are so far from being despised, thatthey are so much the more esteemed by the whole nation.

“Of these there are two sorts: some live unmarried and chaste, andabstain from eating any sort of flesh; and thus weaning themselves from all thepleasures of the present life, which they account hurtful, they pursue, even bythe hardest and painfullest methods possible, that blessedness which they hopefor hereafter; and the nearer they approach to it, they are the more cheerfuland earnest in their endeavours after it. Another sort of them is less willingto put themselves to much toil, and therefore prefer a married state to asingle one; and as they do not deny themselves the pleasure of it, so theythink the begetting of children is a debt which they owe to human nature, andto their country; nor do they avoid any pleasure that does not hinder labour;and therefore eat flesh so much the more willingly, as they find that by thismeans they are the more able to work: the Utopians look upon these as the wisersect, but they esteem the others as the most holy. They would indeed laugh atany man who, from the principles of reason, would prefer an unmarried state toa married, or a life of labour to an easy life: but they reverence and admiresuch as do it from the motives of religion. There is nothing in which they aremore cautious than in giving their opinion positively concerning any sort ofreligion. The men that lead those severe lives are called in the language oftheir country Brutheskas, which answers to those we call Religious Orders.

“Their priests are men of eminent piety, and therefore they are but few,for there are only thirteen in every town, one for every temple; but when theygo to war, seven of these go out with their forces, and seven others are chosento supply their room in their absence; but these enter again upon theiremployments when they return; and those who served in their absence, attendupon the high priest, till vacancies fall by death; for there is one set overthe rest. They are chosen by the people as the other magistrates are, bysuffrages given in secret, for preventing of factions: and when they arechosen, they are consecrated by the college of priests. The care of all sacredthings, the worship of God, and an inspection into the manners of the people,are committed to them. It is a reproach to a man to be sent for by any of them,or for them to speak to him in secret, for that always gives some suspicion:all that is incumbent on them is only to exhort and admonish the people; forthe power of correcting and punishing ill men belongs wholly to the Prince, andto the other magistrates: the severest thing that the priest does is theexcluding those that are desperately wicked from joining in their worship:there is not any sort of punishment more dreaded by them than this, for as itloads them with infamy, so it fills them with secret horrors, such is theirreverence to their religion; nor will their bodies be long exempted from theirshare of trouble; for if they do not very quickly satisfy the priests of thetruth of their repentance, they are seized on by the Senate, and punished fortheir impiety. The education of youth belongs to the priests, yet they do nottake so much care of instructing them in letters, as in forming their minds andmanners aright; they use all possible methods to infuse, very early, into thetender and flexible minds of children, such opinions as are both good inthemselves and will be useful to their country, for when deep impressions ofthese things are made at that age, they follow men through the whole course oftheir lives, and conduce much to preserve the peace of the government, whichsuffers by nothing more than by vices that rise out of ill opinions. The wivesof their priests are the most extraordinary women of the whole country;sometimes the women themselves are made priests, though that falls out butseldom, nor are any but ancient widows chosen into that order.

“None of the magistrates have greater honour paid them than is paid thepriests; and if they should happen to commit any crime, they would not bequestioned for it; their punishment is left to God, and to their ownconsciences; for they do not think it lawful to lay hands on any man, howwicked soever he is, that has been in a peculiar manner dedicated to God; nordo they find any great inconvenience in this, both because they have so fewpriests, and because these are chosen with much caution, so that it must be avery unusual thing to find one who, merely out of regard to his virtue, and forhis being esteemed a singularly good man, was raised up to so great a dignity,degenerate into corruption and vice; and if such a thing should fall out, forman is a changeable creature, yet, there being few priests, and these having noauthority but what rises out of the respect that is paid them, nothing of greatconsequence to the public can proceed from the indemnity that the priestsenjoy.

“They have, indeed, very few of them, lest greater numbers sharing in thesame honour might make the dignity of that order, which they esteem so highly,to sink in its reputation; they also think it difficult to find out many ofsuch an exalted pitch of goodness as to be equal to that dignity, which demandsthe exercise of more than ordinary virtues. Nor are the priests in greaterveneration among them than they are among their neighbouring nations, as youmay imagine by that which I think gives occasion for it.

“When the Utopians engage in battle, the priests who accompany them tothe war, apparelled in their sacred vestments, kneel down during the action (ina place not far from the field), and, lifting up their hands to heaven, pray,first for peace, and then for victory to their own side, and particularly thatit may be gained without the effusion of much blood on either side; and whenthe victory turns to their side, they run in among their own men to restraintheir fury; and if any of their enemies see them or call to them, they arepreserved by that means; and such as can come so near them as to touch theirgarments have not only their lives, but their fortunes secured to them; it isupon this account that all the nations round about consider them so much, andtreat them with such reverence, that they have been often no less able topreserve their own people from the fury of their enemies than to save theirenemies from their rage; for it has sometimes fallen out, that when theirarmies have been in disorder and forced to fly, so that their enemies wererunning upon the slaughter and spoil, the priests by interposing have separatedthem from one another, and stopped the effusion of more blood; so that, bytheir mediation, a peace has been concluded on very reasonable terms; nor isthere any nation about them so fierce, cruel, or barbarous, as not to look upontheir persons as sacred and inviolable.

“The first and the last day of the month, and of the year, is a festival;they measure their months by the course of the moon, and their years by thecourse of the sun: the first days are called in their language the Cynemernes,and the last the Trapemernes, which answers in our language, to the festivalthat begins or ends the season.

“They have magnificent temples, that are not only nobly built, butextremely spacious, which is the more necessary as they have so few of them;they are a little dark within, which proceeds not from any error in thearchitecture, but is done with design; for their priests think that too muchlight dissipates the thoughts, and that a more moderate degree of it bothrecollects the mind and raises devotion. Though there are many different formsof religion among them, yet all these, how various soever, agree in the mainpoint, which is the worshipping the Divine Essence; and, therefore, there isnothing to be seen or heard in their temples in which the several persuasionsamong them may not agree; for every sect performs those rites that are peculiarto it in their private houses, nor is there anything in the public worship thatcontradicts the particular ways of those different sects. There are no imagesfor God in their temples, so that every one may represent Him to his thoughtsaccording to the way of his religion; nor do they call this one God by anyother name but that of Mithras, which is the common name by which they allexpress the Divine Essence, whatsoever otherwise they think it to be; nor arethere any prayers among them but such as every one of them may use withoutprejudice to his own opinion.

“They meet in their temples on the evening of the festival that concludesa season, and not having yet broke their fast, they thank God for their goodsuccess during that year or month which is then at an end; and the next day,being that which begins the new season, they meet early in their temples, topray for the happy progress of all their affairs during that period upon whichthey then enter. In the festival which concludes the period, before they go tothe temple, both wives and children fall on their knees before their husbandsor parents and confess everything in which they have either erred or failed intheir duty, and beg pardon for it. Thus all little discontents in families areremoved, that they may offer up their devotions with a pure and serene mind;for they hold it a great impiety to enter upon them with disturbed thoughts, orwith a consciousness of their bearing hatred or anger in their hearts to anyperson whatsoever; and think that they should become liable to severepunishments if they presumed to offer sacrifices without cleansing theirhearts, and reconciling all their differences. In the temples the two sexes areseparated, the men go to the right hand, and the women to the left; and themales and females all place themselves before the head and master or mistressof the family to which they belong, so that those who have the government ofthem at home may see their deportment in public. And they intermingle them so,that the younger and the older may be set by one another; for if the youngersort were all set together, they would, perhaps, trifle away that time too muchin which they ought to beget in themselves that religious dread of the SupremeBeing which is the greatest and almost the only incitement to virtue.

“They offer up no living creature in sacrifice, nor do they think itsuitable to the Divine Being, from whose bounty it is that these creatures havederived their lives, to take pleasure in their deaths, or the offering up theirblood. They burn incense and other sweet odours, and have a great number of waxlights during their worship, not out of any imagination that such oblations canadd anything to the divine nature (which even prayers cannot do), but as it isa harmless and pure way of worshipping God; so they think those sweet savoursand lights, together with some other ceremonies, by a secret and unaccountablevirtue, elevate men’s souls, and inflame them with greater energy andcheerfulness during the divine worship.

“All the people appear in the temples in white garments; but thepriest’s vestments are parti-coloured, and both the work and colours arewonderful. They are made of no rich materials, for they are neither embroiderednor set with precious stones; but are composed of the plumes of several birds,laid together with so much art, and so neatly, that the true value of them isfar beyond the costliest materials. They say, that in the ordering and placingthose plumes some dark mysteries are represented, which pass down among theirpriests in a secret tradition concerning them; and that they are ashieroglyphics, putting them in mind of the blessing that they have receivedfrom God, and of their duties, both to Him and to their neighbours. As soon asthe priest appears in those ornaments, they all fall prostrate on the ground,with so much reverence and so deep a silence, that such as look on cannot butbe struck with it, as if it were the effect of the appearance of a deity. Afterthey have been for some time in this posture, they all stand up, upon a signgiven by the priest, and sing hymns to the honour of God, some musicalinstruments playing all the while. These are quite of another form than thoseused among us; but, as many of them are much sweeter than ours, so others aremade use of by us. Yet in one thing they very much exceed us: all their music,both vocal and instrumental, is adapted to imitate and express the passions,and is so happily suited to every occasion, that, whether the subject of thehymn be cheerful, or formed to soothe or trouble the mind, or to express griefor remorse, the music takes the impression of whatever is represented, affectsand kindles the passions, and works the sentiments deep into the hearts of thehearers. When this is done, both priests and people offer up very solemnprayers to God in a set form of words; and these are so composed, thatwhatsoever is pronounced by the whole assembly may be likewise applied by everyman in particular to his own condition. In these they acknowledge God to be theauthor and governor of the world, and the fountain of all the good theyreceive, and therefore offer up to him their thanksgiving; and, in particular,bless him for His goodness in ordering it so, that they are born under thehappiest government in the world, and are of a religion which they hope is thetruest of all others; but, if they are mistaken, and if there is either abetter government, or a religion more acceptable to God, they implore Hisgoodness to let them know it, vowing that they resolve to follow himwhithersoever he leads them; but if their government is the best, and theirreligion the truest, then they pray that He may fortify them in it, and bringall the world both to the same rules of life, and to the same opinionsconcerning Himself, unless, according to the unsearchableness of His mind, Heis pleased with a variety of religions. Then they pray that God may give theman easy passage at last to Himself, not presuming to set limits to Him, howearly or late it should be; but, if it may be wished for without derogatingfrom His supreme authority, they desire to be quickly delivered, and to betaken to Himself, though by the most terrible kind of death, rather than to bedetained long from seeing Him by the most prosperous course of life. When thisprayer is ended, they all fall down again upon the ground; and, after a littlewhile, they rise up, go home to dinner, and spend the rest of the day indiversion or military exercises.

“Thus have I described to you, as particularly as I could, theConstitution of that commonwealth, which I do not only think the best in theworld, but indeed the only commonwealth that truly deserves that name. In allother places it is visible that, while people talk of a commonwealth, every manonly seeks his own wealth; but there, where no man has any property, all menzealously pursue the good of the public, and, indeed, it is no wonder to seemen act so differently, for in other commonwealths every man knows that, unlesshe provides for himself, how flourishing soever the commonwealth may be, hemust die of hunger, so that he sees the necessity of preferring his ownconcerns to the public; but in Utopia, where every man has a right toeverything, they all know that if care is taken to keep the public stores fullno private man can want anything; for among them there is no unequaldistribution, so that no man is poor, none in necessity, and though no man hasanything, yet they are all rich; for what can make a man so rich as to lead aserene and cheerful life, free from anxieties; neither apprehending wanthimself, nor vexed with the endless complaints of his wife? He is not afraid ofthe misery of his children, nor is he contriving how to raise a portion for hisdaughters; but is secure in this, that both he and his wife, his children andgrand-children, to as many generations as he can fancy, will all live bothplentifully and happily; since, among them, there is no less care taken ofthose who were once engaged in labour, but grow afterwards unable to follow it,than there is, elsewhere, of these that continue still employed. I would gladlyhear any man compare the justice that is among them with that of all othernations; among whom, may I perish, if I see anything that looks either likejustice or equity; for what justice is there in this: that a nobleman, agoldsmith, a banker, or any other man, that either does nothing at all, or, atbest, is employed in things that are of no use to the public, should live ingreat luxury and splendour upon what is so ill acquired, and a mean man, acarter, a smith, or a ploughman, that works harder even than the beaststhemselves, and is employed in labours so necessary, that no commonwealth couldhold out a year without them, can only earn so poor a livelihood and must leadso miserable a life, that the condition of the beasts is much better thantheirs? For as the beasts do not work so constantly, so they feed almost aswell, and with more pleasure, and have no anxiety about what is to come, whilstthese men are depressed by a barren and fruitless employment, and tormentedwith the apprehensions of want in their old age; since that which they get bytheir daily labour does but maintain them at present, and is consumed as fastas it comes in, there is no overplus left to lay up for old age.

“Is not that government both unjust and ungrateful, that is so prodigalof its favours to those that are called gentlemen, or goldsmiths, or suchothers who are idle, or live either by flattery or by contriving the arts ofvain pleasure, and, on the other hand, takes no care of those of a meaner sort,such as ploughmen, colliers, and smiths, without whom it could not subsist? Butafter the public has reaped all the advantage of their service, and they cometo be oppressed with age, sickness, and want, all their labours and the goodthey have done is forgotten, and all the recompense given them is that they areleft to die in great misery. The richer sort are often endeavouring to bringthe hire of labourers lower, not only by their fraudulent practices, but by thelaws which they procure to be made to that effect, so that though it is a thingmost unjust in itself to give such small rewards to those who deserve so wellof the public, yet they have given those hardships the name and colour ofjustice, by procuring laws to be made for regulating them.

“Therefore I must say that, as I hope for mercy, I can have no othernotion of all the other governments that I see or know, than that they are aconspiracy of the rich, who, on pretence of managing the public, only pursuetheir private ends, and devise all the ways and arts they can find out; first,that they may, without danger, preserve all that they have so ill-acquired, andthen, that they may engage the poor to toil and labour for them at as low ratesas possible, and oppress them as much as they please; and if they can butprevail to get these contrivances established by the show of public authority,which is considered as the representative of the whole people, then they areaccounted laws; yet these wicked men, after they have, by a most insatiablecovetousness, divided that among themselves with which all the rest might havebeen well supplied, are far from that happiness that is enjoyed among theUtopians; for the use as well as the desire of money being extinguished, muchanxiety and great occasions of mischief is cut off with it, and who does notsee that the frauds, thefts, robberies, quarrels, tumults, contentions,seditions, murders, treacheries, and witchcrafts, which are, indeed, ratherpunished than restrained by the severities of law, would all fall off, if moneywere not any more valued by the world? Men’s fears, solicitudes, cares,labours, and watchings would all perish in the same moment with the value ofmoney; even poverty itself, for the relief of which money seems most necessary,would fall. But, in order to the apprehending this aright, take oneinstance:—

“Consider any year, that has been so unfruitful that many thousands havedied of hunger; and yet if, at the end of that year, a survey was made of thegranaries of all the rich men that have hoarded up the corn, it would be foundthat there was enough among them to have prevented all that consumption of menthat perished in misery; and that, if it had been distributed among them, nonewould have felt the terrible effects of that scarcity: so easy a thing would itbe to supply all the necessities of life, if that blessed thing called money,which is pretended to be invented for procuring them was not really the onlything that obstructed their being procured!

“I do not doubt but rich men are sensible of this, and that they wellknow how much a greater happiness it is to want nothing necessary, than toabound in many superfluities; and to be rescued out of so much misery, than toabound with so much wealth: and I cannot think but the sense of everyman’s interest, added to the authority of Christ’s commands, who,as He was infinitely wise, knew what was best, and was not less good indiscovering it to us, would have drawn all the world over to the laws of theUtopians, if pride, that plague of human nature, that source of so much misery,did not hinder it; for this vice does not measure happiness so much by its ownconveniences, as by the miseries of others; and would not be satisfied withbeing thought a goddess, if none were left that were miserable, over whom shemight insult. Pride thinks its own happiness shines the brighter, by comparingit with the misfortunes of other persons; that by displaying its own wealththey may feel their poverty the more sensibly. This is that infernal serpentthat creeps into the breasts of mortals, and possesses them too much to beeasily drawn out; and, therefore, I am glad that the Utopians have fallen uponthis form of government, in which I wish that all the world could be so wise asto imitate them; for they have, indeed, laid down such a scheme and foundationof policy, that as men live happily under it, so it is like to be of greatcontinuance; for they having rooted out of the minds of their people all theseeds, both of ambition and faction, there is no danger of any commotions athome; which alone has been the ruin of many states that seemed otherwise to bewell secured; but as long as they live in peace at home, and are governed bysuch good laws, the envy of all their neighbouring princes, who have often,though in vain, attempted their ruin, will never be able to put their stateinto any commotion or disorder.”

When Raphael had thus made an end of speaking, though many things occurred tome, both concerning the manners and laws of that people, that seemed veryabsurd, as well in their way of making war, as in their notions of religion anddivine matters—together with several other particulars, but chiefly whatseemed the foundation of all the rest, their living in common, without the useof money, by which all nobility, magnificence, splendour, and majesty, which,according to the common opinion, are the true ornaments of a nation, would bequite taken away—yet since I perceived that Raphael was weary, and wasnot sure whether he could easily bear contradiction, remembering that he hadtaken notice of some, who seemed to think they were bound in honour to supportthe credit of their own wisdom, by finding out something to censure in allother men’s inventions, besides their own, I only commended theirConstitution, and the account he had given of it in general; and so, taking himby the hand, carried him to supper, and told him I would find out some othertime for examining this subject more particularly, and for discoursing morecopiously upon it. And, indeed, I shall be glad to embrace an opportunity ofdoing it. In the meanwhile, though it must be confessed that he is both a verylearned man and a person who has obtained a great knowledge of the world, Icannot perfectly agree to everything he has related. However, there are manythings in the commonwealth of Utopia that I rather wish, than hope, to seefollowed in our governments.

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