Utopia

BOOK I

HENRY VIII, the unconquered King of England, a

prince adorned with all the virtues that become a

great monarch, having some differences of no small

consequence with Charles, the most serene Prince of Castile,

sent me into Flanders, as his ambassador, for treating and

composing matters between them. I was colleague and com-

panion to that incomparable man Cuthbert Tonstal, whom

the King with such universal applause lately made Master of

the Rolls, but of whom I will say nothing; not because I fear

that the testimony of a friend will be suspected, but rather

because his learning and virtues are too great for me to do

them justice, and so well known that they need not my com-

mendations unless I would, according to the proverb, "Show

the sun with a lanthorn." Those that were appointed by the

Prince to treat with us, met us at Bruges, according to agree-

ment; they were all worthy men. The Margrave of Bruges

was their head, and the chief man among them; but he that was

esteemed the wisest, and that spoke for the rest, was George

Temse, the Provost of Casselsee; both art and nature had con-

curred to make him eloquent: he was very learned in the law;

and as he had a great capacity, so by a long practice in affairs

he was very dexterous at unravelling them.

After we had several times met without coming to an agree-

ment, they went to Brussels for some days to know the Prince's

pleasure. And since our business would admit it, I went to

Antwerp. While I was there, among many that visited me,

there was one that was more acceptable to me than any other,

Peter Giles, born at Antwerp, who is a man of great honor,

and of a good rank in his town, though less than he deserves;

for I do not know if there be anywhere to be found a more

learned and a better bred young man: for as he is both a very

worthy and a very knowing person, so he is so civil to all men,

so particularly kind to his friends, and so full of candor and

affection, that there is not perhaps above one or two anywhere

to be found that are in all respects so perfect a friend. He is

extraordinarily modest, there is no artifice in him; and yet no

man has more of a prudent simplicity: his conversation was

so pleasant and so innocently cheerful, that his company in a

great measure lessened any longings to go back to my country,

and to my wife and children, which an absence of four months

had quickened 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 in Antwerp, I saw him by accident talk-

ing with a stranger, who seemed past the flower of his age; his

face was tanned, he had a long beard, and his cloak was hang-

ing carelessly about him, so that by his looks and habit I

concluded he was a seaman.

As soon as Peter saw me, he came and saluted me; and as I

was returning his civility, he took me aside, and pointing to

him with whom he had been discoursing, he said: "Do you

see that man? I was just thinking to bring him to you."

I answered, "He should have been very welcome on your

account."

"And on his own too," replied he, "if you knew the man,

for there is none alive that can give so copious an account of

unknown nations and countries as he can do; which I know

you very much desire."

Then said I, "I did not guess amiss, for at first sight I took

him for a seaman."

"But you are much mistaken," said he, "for he has not

sailed as a seaman, but as a traveller, or rather a philosopher.

This Raphael, who from his family carries the name of Hythlo-

day, is not ignorant of the Latin tongue, but is eminently

learned in the Greek, having applied himself more particularly

to that than to the former, because he had given himself much

to philosophy, in which he knew that the Romans have left us

nothing that is valuable, except what is to be found in Seneca

and Cicero. He is a Portuguese by birth, and was so desirous

of seeing the world that he divided his estate among his

brothers, ran the same hazard as Americus Vespucius, and bore

a share in three of his four voyages, that are now published;

only he did not return with him in his last, but obtained leave

of him almost by force, that he might be one of those twenty-

four who were left at the farthest place at which they touched,

in their last voyage to New Castile. The leaving him thus did

not a little gratify one that was more fond of travelling than

of returning home to be buried in his own country; for he

used often to say that the way to heaven was the same from all

places; and he that had no grave had the heaven still over him.

Yet this disposition of mind had cost him dear, if God had not

been very gracious to him; for after he, with five Castilians,

had travelled over many countries, at last, by strange good-

fortune, he got to Ceylon, and from thence to Calicut, where

he very happily found some Portuguese ships, and, beyond all

men's expectations, returned to his native country."

When Peter had said this to me, I thanked him for his kind-

ness, in intending to give me the acquaintance of a man whose

conversation he knew would be so acceptable; and upon that

Raphael and I embraced each other. After those civilities

were passed which are usual with strangers upon their first

meeting, we all went to my house, and entering into the garden,

sat down on a green bank, and entertained one another in dis-

course. He told us that when Vespucius had sailed away, he

and his companions that stayed behind in New Castile, by de-

grees insinuated themselves into the affections of the people of

the country, meeting often with them, and treating them

gently: and at last they not only lived among them without dan-

ger, but conversed familiarly with them; and got so far into the

heart of a prince, whose name and country I have forgot, that

he both furnished them plentifully with all things necessary,

and also with the conveniences of travelling; both boats when

they went by water, and wagons when they travelled over land:

he sent with them a very faithful guide, who was to introduce

and recommend them to such other princes as they had a mind

to see: and after many days' journey, they came to towns and

cities, and to commonwealths, that were both happily gov-

erned and well-peopled. Under the equator, and as far on

both sides of it as the sun moves, there lay vast deserts that

were parched with the perpetual heat of the sun; the soil was

withered, all things looked dismally, and all places were either

quite uninhabited, or abounded with wild beasts and serpents,

and some few men that were neither less wild nor less cruel

than the beasts themselves.

But as they went farther, a new scene opened, 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 their neighbors, but traded both by sea and land, to

very remote countries. There they found the conveniences of

seeing many countries on all hands, for no ship went any

voyage into which he and his companions were not very wel-

come. The first vessels that they saw were flat-bottomed, their

sails were made of reeds and wicker woven close together, only

some were of leather; but afterward they found ships made

with round keels and canvas sails, and in all respects like our

ships; and the seamen understood both astronomy and naviga-

tion. He got wonderfully into their favor, by showing them

the use of the needle, of which till then they were utterly ignor-

ant. They sailed before with great caution, and only in sum-

mer-time, but now they count all seasons alike, trusting wholly

to the loadstone, in which they are perhaps more secure than

safe; so that there is reason to fear that this discovery, which

was thought would prove so much to their advantage, may by

their imprudence become an occasion of much mischief to them.

But it were too long to dwell on all that he told us he had

observed in every place, it would be too great a digression

from our present purpose: whatever is necessary to be told,

concerning those wise and prudent institutions which he ob-

served among civilized nations, may perhaps be related by us

on a more proper occasion. We asked him many questions

concerning all these things, to which he answered very will-

ingly; only we made no inquiries after monsters, than which

nothing is more common; for everywhere one may hear of

ravenous dogs and wolves, and cruel man-eaters; but it is not

so easy to find States 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 for correcting the errors of these

nations among whom we live; of which an account may 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 and laws of the Utopians: but I will begin

with the occasion that led us to speak of that commonwealth.

After Raphael had discoursed with great judgment on the many

errors that were both among us and these nations; had treated

of the wise institutions both here and there, and had spoken as

distinctly of the customs and government of every nation

through which he had passed, as if he had spent his whole life

in it, Peter, being struck with admiration, said: "I wonder,

Raphael, how it comes that you enter into no king's service,

for I am sure there are none to whom you would not be very

acceptable: for your learning and knowledge both of men and

things, are such that you would not only entertain them very

pleasantly, but be of great use to them, by the examples you

could set before them and the advices you could give them;

and by this means you would both serve your own interest

and be of great use to all your friends."

"As for my friends," answered he, "I need not be much

concerned, having already done for them all that was incum-

bent on me; for when I was not only in good health, but fresh

and young, I distributed that among my kindred and friends

which other people do not part with till they are old and sick,

when they then unwillingly give that which they can enjoy no

longer themselves. I think my friends ought to rest contented

with this, and not to expect that for their sake I should enslave

myself to any king whatsoever."

"Soft and fair," said Peter, "I do not mean that you should

be a slave to any king, but only that you should assist them,

and be useful to them."

"The change of the word," said he, "does not alter the

matter."

"But term it as you will," replied Peter, "I do not see any

other way in which you can be so useful, both in private to

your friends, and to the public, and by which you can make

your own condition happier."

"Happier!" answered Raphael; "is that to be compassed

in a way so abhorrent to my genius? Now I live as I will, to

which I believe few courtiers can pretend. And there are so

many that court the favor of great men, that there will be no

great loss if they are not troubled either with me or with

others of my temper."

Upon this, said I: "I perceive, Raphael, that you neither

desire wealth nor greatness; and indeed I value and admire

such a man much more than I do any of the great men in the

world. Yet I think you would do what would well become so

generous and philosophical a soul as yours is, if you would

apply your time and thoughts to public affairs, even though

you may happen to find it a little uneasy to yourself: and this

you can never do with so much advantage, as by being taken

into the counsel of some great prince, and putting him on noble

and worthy actions, which I know you would do if you were

in such a post; for the springs both of good and evil flow from

the prince, over a whole nation, as from a lasting fountain. So

much learning as you have, even without practice in affairs, or

so great a practice as you have had, without any other learn-

ing, would render you a very fit counsellor to any king whatso-

ever."

"You are doubly mistaken," said he, "Mr. More, both in

your opinion of me, and in the judgment you make of things:

for as I have not that capacity that you fancy I have, so, if I

had it, the public would not be one jot the better, when I had

sacrificed my quiet to it. For most princes apply themselves

more to affairs of war than to the useful arts of peace; and in

these I neither have any knowledge, nor do I much desire it:

they are generally more set on acquiring new kingdoms, right

or wrong, than on governing well those they possess. And

among the ministers of princes, there are none that are not so

wise as to need no assistance, or at least that do not think

themselves so wise that they imagine they need none; and if

they court any, it is only those for whom the prince has much

personal favor, whom by their fawnings and flatteries they en-

deavor to fix to their own interests: and indeed Nature has so

made us that we all love to be flattered, and to please ourselves

with our own notions. The old crow loves his young, and the

ape her cubs. Now if in such a court, made up of persons who

envy all others, and only admire themselves, a person should

but propose anything that he had either read in history or

observed in his travels, the rest would think that the reputation

of their wisdom would sink, and that their interest would be

much depressed, if they could not run it down: and if all other

things failed, then they would fly to this, that such or such

things pleased our ancestors, and it were well for us if we could

but match them. They would set up their rest on such an

answer, as a sufficient confutation of all that could be said, as

if it were a great misfortune, that any should be found wiser

than his ancestors; but though they 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 this excuse of reverence to past times. I have met with

these proud, morose, and absurd judgments of things in many

places, particularly once in England."

"Were you ever there?" said I.

"Yes, I was," answered he, "and stayed some months there

not long after the rebellion in the west was suppressed with a

great slaughter of the poor people that were engaged in it. I

was then much obliged to that reverend prelate, John Morton,

Archbishop of Canterbury, Cardinal, and Chancellor of Eng-

land: a man," said he, "Peter (for Mr. More knows well what

he was), that was not less venerable for his wisdom and virtues

than for the high character he bore. He was of a middle

stature, not broken with age; his looks begot reverence rather

than fear; his conversation was easy, but serious and grave-

he sometimes took pleasure to try the force of those that came

as suitors to him upon business, by speaking sharply though

decently to them, and by that he discovered their spirit and

presence of mind, with which he was much delighted, when it

did not grow up to impudence, as bearing a great resemblance

to his own temper; and he looked on such persons as the fittest

men for affairs. He spoke both gracefully and weightily; he

was eminently skilled in the law, had a vast understanding and

a prodigious memory; and those excellent talents with which

nature had furnished him were improved by study and experi-

ence. When I was in England the King depended much on

his counsels, and the government seemed to be chiefly sup-

ported by him; for from his youth he had been all along

practised in affairs; and having passed through many traverses

of fortune, he had with great cost acquired a vast stock of

wisdom, which is not soon lost when it is purchased so dear.

"One day when I was dining with him there happened to

be at table one of the English lawyers, who took occasion to

run out in a high commendation of the severe execution of

justice upon thieves, who, as he said, were then hanged so fast

that there were sometimes twenty on one gibbet; and upon

that he said he could not wonder enough how it came to pass,

that since so few escaped, there were yet so many thieves left

who were still robbing in all places. Upon this, 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 punishing

thieves was neither just in itself nor good for the public; for

as the severity was too great, so the remedy was not effectual;

simple theft not being so great a crime that it ought to cost a

man his life, no punishment how severe soever being able to

restrain those from robbing who can find out no other way of

livelihood. 'In this,' said I, 'not only you in England, but a

great part of the world imitate some ill masters that are readier

to chastise their scholars than to teach them. There are dread-

ful punishments enacted against thieves, but it were much bet-

ter to make such good provisions by which every man might

be put in a method how to live, and so be preserved from the

fatal necessity of stealing and of dying for it.'

"'There has been care enough taken for that,' said he, 'there

are many handicrafts, and there is husbandry, by which they

may make a shift to live unless they have a greater mind to

follow ill courses.'

"'That will not serve your turn,' said I, 'for many lose their

limbs in civil or foreign wars, as lately in the Cornish rebellion,

and some time ago in your wars with France, who being thus

mutilated in the service of their king and country, can no more

follow their old trades, and are too old to learn new ones: but

since wars are only accidental things, and have intervals, let

us consider those things that fall out every day. There is a

great number of noblemen among you, that are themselves as

idle as drones, that subsist on other men's labor, on the labor

of their tenants, whom, to raise their revenues, they pare to

the quick. This indeed is the only instance of their frugality,

for in all other things they are prodigal, even to the beggaring

of themselves: but besides this, they carry about with them a

great number of idle 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, are turned out of

doors; for your lords are readier to feed idle people than to

take care of the sick; and often the heir is not able to keep

together so great a family as his predecessor did. Now when

the stomachs of those that are thus turned out of doors grow

keen, they rob no less keenly; and what else can they do? for

when, by wandering about, they have worn out both their

health and their clothes, and are tattered, and look ghastly,

men of quality will not entertain them, and poor men dare not

do it, knowing that one who has been bred up in idleness and

pleasure, and who was used to walk about with his sword and

buckler, despising all the neighborhood with an insolent scorn

as far below him, is not fit for the spade and mattock: nor will

he serve a poor man for so small a hire, and in so low a diet

as he can afford to give him.'

"To this he answered: 'This sort of men ought to be par-

ticularly cherished, for in them consists the force of the armies

for which we have occasion; since their birth inspires them

with a nobler sense of honor than is to be found among trades-

men or ploughmen.'

"'You may as well say,' replied I, 'that you must cherish

thieves on the account of wars, for you will never want the one

as long as you have the other; and as robbers prove sometimes

gallant soldiers, so soldiers often prove brave robbers; so near

an alliance there is between those two sorts of life. But this

bad custom, so common among you, of keeping many servants,

is not peculiar to this nation. In France there is yet a more

pestiferous sort of people, for the whole country is full of

soldiers, still kept up in time of peace, if such a state of a

nation can be called a peace: and these are kept in pay upon the

same account that you plead for those idle retainers about noblemen;

this being a maxim of those pretended statesmen that it is

necessary for the public safety to have a good body of veteran

soldiers ever in readiness. They think raw men are not to be

depended on, and they sometimes seek occasions for making

war, that they may train up their 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 long an intermission. But

France has learned to its cost how dangerous it is to feed such

beasts.

"'The fate of the Romans, Carthaginians, and Syrians, and

many other nations and cities, which were both overturned and

quite ruined by those standing armies, should make others

wiser: and the folly of this maxim of the French appears

plainly even from this, that their trained soldiers often find your

raw men prove too hard for them; of which I will not say much,

lest you may think I flatter the English. Every day's experi-

ence shows that the mechanics in the towns, or the clowns in

the country, are not afraid of fighting with those idle gentle-

men, if they are not disabled by some misfortune in their body,

or dispirited by extreme want, so that you need not fear that

those well-shaped and strong men (for it is only such that

noblemen love to keep about them, till they spoil them) who

now grow feeble with ease, and are softened with their effemi-

nate manner of life, would be less fit for action if they were well

bred and well employed. And it seems very unreasonable that

for the prospect of a war, which you need never have but when

you please, you should 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 this necessity 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 devour men, and unpeople, not only villages, but towns;

for wherever it is found that the sheep of any soil yield a softer

and richer wool than ordinary, there the nobility and gentry,

and even those holy men the abbots, not contented with the 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 instead of good. They stop the course of agricul-

ture, destroying houses and towns, reserving only the churches,

and enclose grounds that they may lodge their sheep in them.

As if forests and parks had swallowed up too little of the land,

those worthy countrymen turn the best inhabited places in soli-

tudes, for when an insatiable wretch, who is a plague to his

country, resolves to enclose many thousand acres of ground,

the owners as well as tenants are turned out of their posses-

sions, by tricks, or by main force, or being wearied out with

ill-usage, they are forced to sell them. By which means those

miserable people, both men and women, married and unmar-

ried, old and young, with their poor but numerous families

(since country business requires many hands), are all forced to

change their seats, not knowing whither to go; and they must

sell almost for nothing their household stuff, which could not

bring them much money, even though they might stay for a

buyer. When that little money is at an end, for it will be soon

spent, what is left for them to do, but either to steal and so to

be hanged (God knows how justly), or to go about and beg?

And if they do this, they are put in prison as idle vagabonds;

while they would willingly work, but can find none that will

hire them; for there is no more occasion for country labor, to

which they have been bred, when there is no arable ground

left. One shepherd can look after a flock which will stock an

extent of ground that would 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 risen that 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

pasture, God has punished the avarice of the owners by a rot

among the sheep, which has destroyed vast numbers of them;

to us it might have seemed more just had it fell on the owners

themselves. But suppose the sheep should increase ever so

much, their price is not like to fall; since though they cannot

be called a monopoly, because they are not engrossed by one

person, yet they are in so few hands, and these are so rich, that

as they are not pressed to sell them sooner than they have a

mind to it, so they never do it till they have raised the price as

high as possible. And on the same account it is, that the other

kinds of cattle are so dear, because many villages being pulled

down, and all country labor being much neglected, there are

none who make it their business to breed them. The rich do

not breed cattle as they do sheep, but buy them lean, and at

low prices; and after they have fattened them on their grounds

sell them again at high rates. And I do not think that all the

inconveniences this will produce are yet observed, for as they

sell the cattle dear, so if they are consumed faster than the

breeding countries from which they are brought can afford

them, then the stock must decrease, and this must needs end

in great scarcity; and by these means this your island, which

seemed as to this particular the happiest in the world, will

suffer much by the cursed avarice of a few persons; besides

this, the rising of corn makes all people lessen their families as

much as they can; and what can those who are dismissed by

them do, but either beg or rob? And to this last, a man of a

great mind is much sooner drawn than to the former.

"'Luxury likewise breaks in apace upon you, to set forward

your poverty and misery; there is an excessive vanity in ap-

parel, and great cost in diet; and that not only in noblemen's

families, but even among tradesmen, among the farmers them-

selves, and among all ranks of persons. You have also many

infamous houses, and, besides those that are known, the

taverns and alehouses are no better; add to these, dice, cards,

tables, foot-ball, tennis, and quoits, in which money runs fast

away; and those that are initiated into them, must in the con-

clusion betake themselves to robbing for a supply. Banish

these plagues, and give orders that those who have dispeopled

so much soil, may either rebuild the villages they have pulled

down, or let out their grounds to such as will do it: restrain

those engrossings of the rich, that are as bad almost as monopo-

lies; leave fewer occasions to idleness; let agriculture be set

up again, and the manufacture of the wool be regulated, that

so there may be work found for those companies of idle people

whom want forces to be thieves, or who, now being idle vaga-

bonds or useless servants, will certainly grow thieves at last.

If you do not find a remedy to these evils, it is a vain thing to

boast of your severity in punishing theft, which though it may

have the appearance of justice, yet in itself is neither just nor

convenient. For if you suffer your people to be ill-educated,

and their manners to be corrupted from their infancy, and then

punish them for those crimes to which their first education

disposed them, what else is to be concluded from this, but that

you first make thieves and then punish them ?'

"While I was talking thus, the counsellor who was present

had prepared an answer, and had resolved to resume all I had

said, according to the formality of a debate, in which things

are generally repeated more faithfully than they are answered;

as if the chief trial to be made were of men's memories.

"'You have talked prettily for a stranger,' said he, 'having

heard of many things among us which you have not been able

to consider well; but I will make the whole matter plain to you,

and will first repeat in order all that you have said, then I will

show how much your ignorance of our affairs has misled you,

and will in the last place answer all your arguments. And that

I may begin where I promised, there were four things --'

"'Hold your peace,' said the cardinal; 'this will take up too

much time; therefore we will at present ease you of the trouble

of answering, and reserve it to our next meeting, which shall

be to-morrow, if Raphael's affairs and yours can admit of it.

But, Raphael,' said he to me, 'I would gladly know upon what

reason it is that you think theft ought not to be punished by

death? Would you give way to it? Or do you propose any

other punishment that will be more useful to the public? For

since death does not restrain theft, if men thought their lives

would be safe, what fear or force could restrain ill men? On

the contrary, they would look on the mitigation of the punish-

ment as an invitation to commit more crimes.'

"I answered: 'It seems to me a very unjust thing to take

away a man's life for a little money; for nothing in the world

can be of equal value with a man's life: and if it is said that it

is not for the money that one suffers, but for his breaking the

law, I must say extreme justice is an extreme injury; for we

ought not to approve of these terrible laws that make the small-

est offences capital, nor of that opinion of the Stoics that makes

all crimes equal, as if there were no difference to be made be-

tween the killing a man and the taking his purse, between

which, if we examine things impartially, there is no likeness

nor proportion. God has commanded us not to kill, and shall

we kill so easily for a little money? But if one shall say, that

by that law we are only forbid to kill any, except when the laws

of the land allow of it; upon the same grounds, laws may be

made in some cases to allow of adultery and perjury: for God

having taken from us the right of disposing, either of our own

or of other people's lives, if it is pretended that the mutual

consent of man in making laws can authorize manslaughter in

cases in which God has given us no example, that it frees people

from the obligation of the divine law, and so makes murder a

lawful action; 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 Mosaical law, though it was rough and

severe, as being a yoke laid on an obstinate and servile nation,

men were only fined and not put to death for theft, we cannot

imagine that in this new law of mercy, in which God treats us

with the tenderness of a father, he has given us a greater

license to cruelty than he did to the Jews. Upon these rea-

sons it is that I think putting thieves to death is not lawful;

and it is plain and obvious that it is absurd, and of ill-conse-

quence to the commonwealth, that a thief and a murderer

should be equally punished; for if a robber sees that his danger

is the same, if he is convicted of theft as if he were guilty of

murder, this will naturally incite him to kill the person whom

otherwise he would only have robbed, since if the punishment is

the same, there is more security, and less danger of discovery,

when he that can best make it is put out of the way; so that

terrifying thieves too much, provokes them to cruelty.

"But as to the question, What more convenient way of

punishment can be found? I think it is much more easier to find

out that than to invent anything that is worse; why should we

doubt but the way that was so long in use among the old

Romans, who understood so well the arts of government, was

very proper for their punishment? They condemned such as

they found guilty of great crimes, to work their whole lives in

quarries, or to dig in mines with chains about them. But the

method that I liked best, was that which I observed in my

travels in Persia, among the Polylerits, who are a considerable

and well-governed people. They pay a yearly tribute to the

King of Persia; but in all other respects they are a free nation,

and governed by their own laws. They lie far from the sea,

and are environed with hills; and being contented with the

productions of their own country, which is very fruitful, they

have little commerce with any other nation; and as they, ac-

cording to the genius of their country, have no inclination to

enlarge their borders; so their mountains, and the pension they

pay to the Persians, secure them from all invasions.

"'Thus they have no wars among them; they live rather

conveniently than with splendor, and may be rather called a

happy nation, than either eminent or famous; for I do not think

that they are known so much as by name to any but their next

neighbors. Those that are found guilty of theft among them

are bound to make restitution to the owner, and not as it is in

other places, to the prince, for they reckon that the prince has

no more right to the stolen goods than the thief; but if that

which was stolen is no more in being, then the goods of the

thieves are estimated, and restitution being made out of them,

the remainder is given to their wives and children: and they

themselves are condemned to serve in the public works, but

are neither imprisoned, nor chained, unless there happened to

be some extraordinary circumstances in their crimes. They

go about loose and free, working for the public. If they are

idle or backward to work, they are whipped; but if they work

hard, they are well used and treated without any mark of re-

proach, only the lists of them are called always at night, and

then they are shut up. They suffer no other uneasiness, but

this of constant labor; for as they work for the public, so they

are well entertained out of the public stock, which is done

differently in different places. In some places, whatever is

bestowed on them, is raised by a charitable contribution; and

though this way may seem uncertain, yet so merciful are the

inclinations of that people, that they are plentifully supplied by

it; but in other places, public revenues are set aside for them;

or there is a constant tax of a poll-money raised for their main-

tenance. In some places they are set to no public work, but

every private man that has occasion to hire workmen goes to

the market-places and hires them of the public, a little lower

than he would do a freeman: if they go lazily about their task,

he may quicken them with the whip.

"'By this means there is always some piece of work or other

to be done by them; and beside their livelihood, they earn

somewhat still to the public. They all wear a peculiar habit,

of one certain color, and their hair is cropped 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 they are of their proper color, but it is death, both to the

giver and taker, if they give them money; nor is it less penal

for any freeman to take money from them, 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 are distinguished by a peculiar mark; which it is capi-

tal for them to lay aside, to go out of their bounds, or to talk

with a slave of another jurisdiction; and the very attempt of an

escape is no less penal than an escape itself; it is death for any

other slave to be accessory to it; and if a freeman engages in it

he is condemned to slavery. Those that discover it are

rewarded -- if freemen, in money; and if slaves, with liberty, to-

gether with a pardon for being accessory to it; that so they

might find their account, rather in repenting 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 obvious that they are as advantageous as they are mild

and gentle; since vice is not only destroyed, and men pre-

served, but they treated in such a manner as to make them see

the necessity of being honest, and of employing the rest of

their lives in repairing the injuries they have formerly done to

society. Nor is there any hazard of their falling back to their

old customs: and so little do travellers apprehend mischief

from them, that they generally make use of them for guides,

from one jurisdiction to another; for there is nothing left them

by which they can rob, or be the better for it, since, as they are

disarmed, so the very having of money is a sufficient convic-

tion: and as they are certainly punished if discovered, so they

cannot hope to escape; for their habit being in all 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 the government: but those of one

division and neighborhood can do nothing to any purpose,

unless a general conspiracy were laid among all the slaves of

the several jurisdictions, which cannot be done, since they

cannot meet or talk together; nor will any venture on a design

where the concealment would be so dangerous and the discov-

ery so profitable. None are quite hopeless of recovering their

freedom, since by their obedience and patience, and by giving

good grounds to believe that they will change their manner of

life for the future, they may expect at last to obtain their liberty:

and some are every year restored to it, upon the good character

that is given of them.'

"When I had related all this, I added that I did not see why

such a method might not be followed with more advantage

than could ever be expected from that severe justice which the

counsellor magnified so much. To this he answered that it

could never take place in England without endangering the

whole nation. As he said this he shook his head, made some

grimaces, and held his 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, since it was a method that

never yet had been tried.

"'But if,' said he, 'when the sentence of death was passed

upon a thief, the prince would reprieve him for a while, and

make the experiment upon him, denying him the privilege of

a sanctuary; and then if it had a good effect upon him, it might

take place; and if it did not succeed, the worst would be, to

execute the sentence on the condemned persons at last. And

I do not see,' added he, 'why it would be either unjust, incon-

venient, or at all dangerous, to admit of such a delay: in my

opinion, the vagabonds ought to be treated in the same man-

ner; against whom, though we have made many laws, yet we

have not been able to gain our end.' When the cardinal had

done, they all commended the motion, though they had de-

spised it when it came from me; but more particularly com-

mended what related to the vagabonds, because it was his own

observation.

"I do not know whether it be worth while to tell what fol-

lowed, for it was very ridiculous; but I shall venture at it, for

as it is not foreign to this matter, so some good use may be

made of it. There was a jester standing by, 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 him than at them; yet sometimes he said, as it were by

chance, things that were not unpleasant; so as to justify the

old proverb, 'That he who throws the dice often, will some-

times have a lucky hit.' When one of the company had said

that I had taken care of the thieves, and the cardinal had taken

care of the vagabonds, so that there remained nothing but that

some public provision might be made for the poor, whom sick-

ness or old age had disabled from labor, 'Leave that to me,'

said the fool, 'and I shall take care of them; for there is no sort

of people whose sight I abhor more, having been so often

vexed with them, and with their sad complaints; but as dole-

fully soever as they have told their tale, they could never pre-

vail so far as to draw one penny from me: for either I had no

mind to give them anything, or when I had a mind to do it I

had nothing to give them: and they now know me so well that

they will not lose their labor, 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 send-

ing all these beggars to monasteries, the men to the Bene-

dictines to be made lay-brothers, and the women to be nuns.'

"The cardinal smiled, and approved of it in jest; but the

rest liked it in earnest. There was a divine present, who

though he was a grave, morose man, yet he was so pleased with

this reflection that was made on the priests 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 us friars.'

"'That is done already,' answered the fool, 'for the cardinal

has provided for you, by what he proposed for restraining vag-

abonds, and setting them to work, for I know no vagabonds like

you.'

"This was well entertained by the whole company, who,

looking at the cardinal, perceived that he was not ill-pleased

at it; only the friar himself was vexed, as may be easily imag-

ined, and fell into such a passion that he could not forbear rail-

ing at the fool, and calling him knave, slanderer, backbiter, and

son of perdition, and then cited some dreadful threatenings out

of the Scriptures against him. Now the jester thought he was

in his element, and laid about him freely.

"'Good friar,' said he, 'be not angry, 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 ye angry, 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 men have had a good zeal, as it

is said, "The zeal of thy house hath eaten me up;" and we sing

in our church, that those, who mocked Elisha as he went up to

the house of God, felt the effects of his zeal; which that mocker,

that rogue, that scoundrel, will perhaps feel.'

"'You do this perhaps with a good intention,' said the cardi-

nal; 'but in my opinion it were wiser in you, and perhaps better

for you, not to engage in so ridiculous a contest with a fool.'

"'No, my lord,' answered he, 'that were not wisely done;

for Solomon, the wisest of men, said, "Answer a fool accord-

ing to his folly;" which I now do, and show him the ditch into

which he will fall, if he is not aware of it; for if the many

mockers of Elisha, who was but one bald man, felt the effect

of his zeal, what will become of one mocker of so many friars,

among whom there are so many bald men? We have likewise

a bull, by which all that jeer us are excommunicated.'

"When the cardinal saw that there was no end of this mat-

ter, he made a sign to the fool to withdraw, turned the discourse

another way, and soon after rose from the table, and, dismiss-

ing us, went to hear causes.

"Thus, Mr. More, I have run out into a tedious story, of

the length of which I had been ashamed, if, as you earnestly

begged it of me, I had not observed you to hearken to it, as if

you had no mind to lose any part of it. I might have con-

tracted it, but I resolved to give it to you at large, that you

might observe how those that despised what I had proposed, no

sooner perceived that the cardinal did not dislike it, but pres-

ently approved of it, fawned so on him, and flattered him to

such a degree, that they in good earnest applauded those things

that he only liked in jest. And from hence you may gather,

how little 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 you have made me imagine that I was

in my own country, and grown young again, by recalling that

good cardinal to my thoughts, in whose family I was bred from

my childhood: and though you are upon other accounts very

dear to me, yet you are the dearer, because you honor his mem-

ory so much; but after all this I cannot change my opinion, for

I still think that if you could overcome that aversion which you

have to the courts of princes, you might, by the advice which it

is in your power to give, do a great deal of good to mankind;

and this is the chief design that every good man ought to pro-

pose to himself in living; for your friend Plato thinks that

nations will be happy, when either philosophers become kings

or kings become philosophers, it is no wonder if we are so far

from that happiness, while philosophers will not think it their

duty to assist kings with their councils.

"'They are not so base-minded,' said he, 'but that they

would willingly do it: many of them have already done it by

their books, if those that are in power would but hearken to

their good advice.' But Plato judged right, that except kings

themselves became philosophers, they who from their child-

hood are corrupted with false notions would never fall in en-

tirely with the councils of philosophers, 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 to him, and endeavoring to root out all the cursed

seeds of evil that I found in him, I should either be turned out

of his court or at least be laughed at for my pains? For in-

stance, what could it signify if I were about the King of France,

and were called into his Cabinet Council, where several wise

men, in his hearing, were proposing many expedients, as by

what arts and practices Milan may be kept, and Naples, that

had so oft slipped out of their hands, recovered; how the Vene-

tians, and after them the rest of Italy, may be subdued; and

then how Flanders, Brabant, and all Burgundy, and some other

kingdoms which he has swallowed already in his designs, may

be added to his empire. One proposes a league with the Vene-

tians, to be kept as long as he finds his account in it, and that

he ought to communicate councils with them, and give them

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 the hiring the Germans, and the securing the

Switzers by pensions. Another proposes the gaining the Em-

peror by money, which is omnipotent with him. Another pro-

poses a peace with the King of Arragon, and, in order to cement

it, the yielding up the King of Navarre's pretensions. Another

thinks the Prince of Castile is to be wrought on, by the hope of

an alliance; and that some of his courtiers are to be gained to

the French faction by pensions. The hardest point of all is

what to do with England: a treaty of peace is to be set on foot,

and if their alliance is not to be depended on, yet it is to be

made as firm as possible; and they are to be called friends, but

suspected as enemies: therefore the Scots are to be kept in read-

iness, to be let loose upon England on every occasion: and some

banished nobleman is to be supported underhand (for by the

league it cannot be done avowedly) who has a pretension to the

crown, by which means that suspected prince may be kept in

awe.

"Now when things are in so great a fermentation, and so

many gallant men are joining councils, how to carry on the

war, if so mean a man as I should stand up, and wish them to

change all their councils, to let Italy alone, and stay at home,

since the Kingdom of France was indeed greater than could

be well governed by one man; that therefore he ought not to

think of adding others to it: and if after this, I should propose

to them the resolutions of the Achorians, a people that lie on the

southeast of Utopia, who long ago engaged in war, in order

to add to the dominions of their prince another kingdom, to

which he had some pretensions by an ancient alliance. This

they conquered, but found 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 foreign invasions,

while they were obliged to be incessantly at war, either for or

against them, and consequently could never disband their army;

that in the meantime 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 least advantage to

the people, who received not the smallest benefit from it even

in time of peace; and that their manners being corrupted by a

long war, robbery and murders everywhere abounded, and their

laws fell into contempt; while their King, distracted with the

care of two kingdoms, was the less able to apply his mind to the

interests of either.

"When they saw this, and that there would be no end to

these evils, they by joint councils made an humble address to

their King, desiring him to choose which of the two kingdoms

he had the greatest mind to keep, since he could not hold both;

for they were too great a people to be governed by a divided

king, since no man would willingly have a groom that should

be in common between him and another. Upon which the

good prince was forced to quit his new kingdom to one of his

friends (who was not long after dethroned), and to be con-

tented with his old one. To this I would add that after all

those warlike attempts, the vast confusions, and the consump-

tion both of treasure and of people that must follow them; per-

haps upon some misfortune, they might be forced to throw up

all at last; therefore it seemed much more eligible that the King

should improve his ancient kingdom all he could, and make it

flourish as much as possible; that he should love his people,

and be beloved of them; that he should live among them, gov-

ern them gently, and let other 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 as this be heard?"

"I confess," said I, "I think not very well."

"But what," said he, "if I should sort with another kind of

ministers, whose chief contrivances and consultations were,

by what art the prince's treasures might be increased. Where

one proposes raising the value of specie when the King's debts

are large, and lowering it when his revenues were to come in,

that so he might both pay much with a little, and in a little

receive a great deal: another proposes a pretence of a war, that

money might be raised in order to carry it on, and that a peace

be concluded as soon as that was done; and this with such ap-

pearances of religion as might work on the people, and make

them impute it to the piety of their prince, and to his tenderness

for the lives of his subjects. A third offers some old musty

laws, that have been antiquated by a long disuse; and which,

as they had been forgotten by all the subjects, so they had been

also broken by them; and proposes the levying the penalties of

these laws, that as it would bring in a vast treasure, so there

might be a very good pretence for it, since it would look like

the executing a law, and the doing of justice. A fourth pro-

poses the prohibiting of many things under severe penalties,

especially such as were against the interest of the people, and

then the dispensing with these prohibitions upon great compo-

sitions, to those who might find their advantage in 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, so the selling licenses 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 be against the

public good.

"Another proposes that the judges must be made sure, that

they may declare always in favor of the prerogative, that they

must be often sent for to court, that the King may hear them

argue those points in which 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 or the pride of

singularity or to make their court, would find out some pre-

tence or other to give the King a fair color to carry the point:

for if the judges but differ in opinion, the clearest thing in the

world is made by that means disputable, and truth being once

brought in question, the King may then take advantage to ex-

pound the law for his own profit; while the judges that stand

out will be brought over, either out of fear or modesty; and

they being thus gained, all of them may be sent to the bench to

give sentence boldly, as the King would have it; for fair pre-

tences will never be wanting when sentence is to be given in the

prince's favor. It will either be said that equity lies on his side,

or some words in the law will be found sounding that way,

or some forced sense will be put on them; and when all other

things fail, the King's undoubted prerogative will be pretended,

as that which is above all law; and to which a religious judge

ought to have a special regard.

"Thus all consent to that maxim of Crassus, that a prince

cannot have treasure enough, since he must maintain his armies

out of it: that a king, even though he would, can do nothing

unjustly; that all property is in him, not excepting the very

persons of his subjects: and that no man has any other prop-

erty, but that which the King out of his goodness thinks fit to

leave him. And they think it is the prince's interest, that there

be as little of this left as may be, as if it were his advantage that

his people should have neither riches nor liberty; since these

things make them less easy and less willing to submit to a cruel

and unjust government; whereas necessity and poverty blunt

them, make them patient, beat them down, and break that

height of spirit, that might otherwise dispose them to rebel.

Now what if after all these propositions were made, I should

rise up and assert, that such councils were both unbecoming

a king, and mischievous to him: and that not only his honor

but his safety consisted more in his people's wealth, than in his

own; if I should show that they choose a king for their own

sake, and not for his; that by his care and endeavors they may

be both easy and safe; and that therefore a prince ought to take

more care of his people's happiness than of his own, as a shep-

herd is to take more care of his flock than of himself.

"It is also certain that they are much mistaken that think the

poverty of a nation is a means of the public safety. Who quar-

rel more than beggars? Who does more earnestly long for a

change, than he that is uneasy in his present circumstances?

And who run to create confusions with so desperate a boldness,

as those who have nothing to lose hope to gain by them? If

a king should fall under such contempt or envy, that he could

not keep his subjects in their duty, but by oppression and ill-

usage, and by rendering them poor and miserable, it were cer-

tainly better for him to quit his kingdom, than to retain it by

such methods, as makes him while he keeps the name of au-

thority, lose the majesty due to it. Nor is it so becoming the

dignity of a king to reign over beggars, as over rich and happy

subjects. And therefore Fabricius, a man of a noble and ex-

alted temper, said, he would rather govern rich men than be

rich himself; since for one man to abound in wealth and pleas-

ure, when all about him are mourning and groaning, is to a

gaoler and not a king. He is an unskilful physician, that can-

not cure one disease without casting his patient into another:

so he that can find no other way for correcting the errors of

his people, but by taking from them the conveniences of life,

shows that he knows not what it is to govern a free nation.

He himself ought rather to shake off his sloth, or to lay down

his pride; for the contempt or hatred that his people have for

him, takes its rise from the vices in himself. Let him live upon

what belongs to him, without wronging others, and accommo-

date his expense to his revenue. Let him punish crimes, and

by his wise conduct let him endeavor to prevent them, rather

than be severe when he has suffered them to be too common:

let him not rashly revive laws that are abrogated by disuse,

especially if they have been long forgotten, and never wanted;

and let him never take any penalty for the breach of them, to

which a judge would not give way in a private man, but would

look on him as a crafty and unjust person for pretending to it.

"To these things I would add that law among the Macarians,

a people that live not far from Utopia, by which their King, on

the day on which he begins to reign, is tied by an oath con-

firmed by solemn sacrifices, never to have at once above 1,000

pounds of gold in his treasures, or so much silver as is equal

to that in value. This law, they tell us, was made by an excel-

lent king, who had more regard to the riches of his country

than to his own wealth, and therefore provided against the

heaping up of so much treasure as might impoverish the people.

He thought that a moderate sum might be sufficient for any

accident, if either the King had occasion for it against rebels,

or the kingdom against the invasion of an enemy; but that it

was not enough to encourage a prince to invade other men's

rights, a circumstance that was the chief cause of his making

that law. He also thought that it was a good provision for

that free circulation of money, so necessary for the course of

commerce and exchange: and when a king must distribute all

those extraordinary accessions that increase treasure beyond

the due pitch, it makes him less disposed to oppress his subjects.

Such a king as this will be the terror of ill men, and will be

beloved by all the good.

"If, I say, I should talk of these or such like things, to men

that had taken 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 is never to offer at propositions or advice that we are cer-

tain will not be entertained. Discourses so much out of the

road could not avail anything, nor have any effect on men

whose minds were prepossessed with different sentiments.

This philosophical way of speculation is not unpleasant among

friends in a free conversation, but there is no room for it in

the courts of princes where great affairs are carried on by au-

thority."

"That is what I was saying," replied he, "that there is no

room for philosophy in the courts of princes."

"Yes, there is," said I, "but not for this speculative philoso-

phy that makes everything to be alike fitting at all times: but

there is another philosophy that is more pliable, that knows its

proper scene, accommodates itself to it, and teaches a man with

propriety and decency to act that part which has fallen to his

share. If when one of Plautus's comedies is upon the stage

and a company of servants are acting their parts, you should

come out in the garb of a philosopher, and repeat out of 'Octa-

via,' a discourse of Seneca's to Nero, would it not be better for

you to say nothing than by mixing things of such different

natures to make an impertinent tragi-comedy? For you spoil

and corrupt the play that is in hand when you mix with it

things of an opposite nature, even though they are much better.

Therefore go through with the play that is acting, the best you

can, and do not confound it because another that is pleasanter

comes into your thoughts. It is even so in a commonwealth

and in the councils of princes; if ill opinions cannot be quite

rooted out, and you cannot cure some received vice according

to your wishes, you must not therefore abandon the common-

wealth; for the same reasons you should not forsake the ship

in a storm because you cannot command the winds. You are

not obliged to assault people with discourses that are out of

their road, when you see that their received notions must pre-

vent your making an impression upon them. You ought rather

to cast about and to manage things with all the dexterity in

your power, so that if you are not able to make them go well

they may be as little ill as possible; for except all men were

good everything cannot be right, and that is a blessing that I

do not at present hope to see."

"According to your arguments," answered he, "all that I

could be able to do would be to preserve myself from being mad

while I endeavored to cure the madness of others; for if I speak

truth, I must repeat what I have said to you; and as for lying,

whether a philosopher can do it or not, I cannot tell; I am sure

I cannot do it. But though these discourses may be uneasy

and ungrateful to them, I do not see why they should seem

foolish or extravagant: indeed if I should either propose such

things as Plato has contrived in his commonwealth, or as the

Utopians practise in theirs, though they might seem better, as

certainly they are, yet they are so different from our establish-

ment, which is founded on property, there being no such thing

among them, that I could not expect that it would have any

effect on them; but such discourses as mine, which only call

past evils to mind and give warning of what may follow, have

nothing in them that is so absurd that they may not be used at

any time, for they can only be unpleasant to those who are

resolved to run headlong the contrary way; and if we must let

alone everything as absurd or extravagant which by reason

of the wicked lives of many may seem uncouth, we must, even

among Christians, give over pressing the greatest part of those

things that Christ hath taught us, though He has commanded

us not to conceal them, but to proclaim on the house-tops that

which he taught in secret.

"The greatest parts of his precepts are more opposite to the

lives of the men of this age than any part of my discourse has

been; but the preachers seemed to have learned that craft to

which you advise me, for they observing that the world would

not willingly suit 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 compliance except

it be that men become more secure in their wickedness by it.

And this is all the success that I can have in a court, for I must

always differ from the rest, and then I shall signify nothing;

or if I agree with them, I shall then only help forward their

madness. I do not comprehend what you mean by your cast-

ing about, or by the bending and handling things so dexter-

ously, that if they go not well they may go as little ill as may

be; for in courts they will not bear with a man's holding his

peace or conniving at what others do. A man must bare-

facedly approve of the worst counsels, and consent to the

blackest designs: so that he would pass for a spy, or possibly

for a traitor, that did but coldly approve of such wicked prac-

tices: and therefore when a man is engaged in such a society,

he will be so far from being able to mend matters by his casting

about, as you call it, that he will find no occasions of doing any

good: the ill company will sooner corrupt him than be the bet-

ter for him: or if notwithstanding all their ill company, he still

remains steady and innocent, yet their follies and knavery will

be imputed to him; and by mixing counsels with them, he must

bear his share of all the blame that belongs wholly to others.

"It was no ill simile by which Plato set forth the unreasona-

bleness of a philosopher's meddling with government. If a

man, says he, was to see a great company run out every day into

the rain, and take delight in being wet; if he knew that it would

be to no purpose for him to go and persuade them to return to

their houses, in order to avoid the storm, and that all that could

be expected by his going to speak to them would be that he him-

self should be as wet as they, it would be best for him to keep

within doors; and since he had not influence enough to correct

other people's folly, to take care to preserve himself.

"Though to speak plainly my real sentiments, I must freely

own that as long as there is any property, and while money

is the standard of all other things, 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

are not in all respects happy), the rest being left to be absolutely

miserable. Therefore when I reflect on the wise and good con-

stitution of the Utopians -- among whom all things are so well

governed, and with so few laws; where virtue hath its due re-

ward, and yet there is such an equality, that every man lives in

plenty -- when I compare with them so many other nations that

are still making new laws, and yet can never bring their consti-

tution to a right regulation, where notwithstanding everyone

has his property; yet all the laws that they can invent have not

the power either to obtain or preserve it, or even to enable men

certainly to distinguish what is their own from what is an-

other's; of which the many lawsuits that every day break out,

and are eternally depending, give too plain a demonstration;

when, I say, I balance all these things in my thoughts, I grow

more favorable to Plato, and do not wonder that he resolved

not to make any laws for such as would not submit to a com-

munity of all things: for so wise a man could not but foresee

that 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 draws to himself all that he can

compass, by one title or another, it must needs follow, that how

plentiful soever a nation may be, yet a few dividing the wealth

of it among themselves, the rest must fall into indigence.

"So that there will be two sorts of people among them, who

deserve that their fortunes should be interchanged; the former

useless, but wicked and ravenous; and the latter, who by their

constant industry serve the public more than themselves, sin-

cere and modest men. From whence I am persuaded, that till

property is taken away there can be no equitable or just distri-

bution of things, nor can the world be happily governed: for as

long as that is maintained, the greatest and the far best part

of mankind will be still oppressed with a load of cares and anxi-

eties. I confess without taking it quite away, those pressures

that lie on a great part of mankind may be made lighter; but

they can never be quite removed. For if laws were made to

determine at how great an extent in soil, and at how much

money every man must stop, to limit the prince that he might

not grow too great, and to restrain the people that they might

not become too insolent, and that none might factiously as-

pire to public employments; which ought neither to be sold, nor

made burdensome by a great expense; since otherwise those

that serve in them would be tempted to reimburse themselves

by cheats and violence, and it would become necessary to find

out rich men for undergoing those employments which ought

rather to be trusted to the wise -- these laws, I say, might have

such effects, as good diet and care might have on a sick man,

whose recovery is desperate: they might allay and mitigate the

disease, but it could never be quite healed, nor the body politic

be brought again to a good habit, as long as property remains;

and it will fall out as in a complication of diseases, that by ap-

plying a remedy to one sore, you will provoke another; and that

which removes the one ill symptom produces others, while the

strengthening one part of the body weakens the rest."

"On the contrary," answered I, "it seems to me that men

cannot live conveniently where all things are common: how can

there be any plenty, where every man will excuse himself from

labor? For as the hope of gain doth not excite him, so the

confidence that he has in other men's industry may make him

slothful: if people come to be pinched with want, and yet can-

not dispose of anything as their own; what can follow upon

this but perpetual sedition and bloodshed, especially when the

reverence and authority due to magistrates fall to the ground?

For I cannot imagine how that can be kept up among those that

are in all things equal to one another."

"I do not wonder," said he, "that it appears so to you, since

you have no notion, or at least no right one, of such a constitu-

tion: but if you had been in Utopia with me, and had seen their

laws and rules, as I did, for the space of five years, in which I

lived among them; and during which time I was so delighted

with them, that indeed I should never have left them, if it had

not been to make the discovery of that new world to the Euro-

peans; you would then confess that you had never seen a people

so well constituted as they."

"You will not easily persuade me," said Peter, "that any

nation in that new world is better governed than those among

us. For as our understandings 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 conveniences of life:

and some happy chances have discovered other things to us,

which no man's understanding could ever have invented."

"As for the antiquity, either of their government or of ours,"

said he, "you cannot pass a true judgment of it unless you had

read their histories; for if they are to be believed, they had

towns among them before these parts were so much as inhab-

ited. And as for those discoveries, that have been either hit on

by chance, or made by ingenious men, these might have hap-

pened there as well as here. I do not deny but we are more

ingenious than they are, but they exceed us much in industry

and application. They knew little concerning us before our ar-

rival among them; they call us all by a general name of the

nations that lie beyond the equinoctial line; for their chronicle

mentions a shipwreck that was made on their coast 1,200 years

ago; and that some Romans and Egyptians that were in the

ship, getting safe ashore, spent the rest of their days among

them; and such was their ingenuity, that from this single op-

portunity they drew the advantage of learning from those

unlooked-for guests, and acquired all the useful arts that were

then among the Romans, and which were known to these ship-

wrecked men: and by the hints that they gave them, they them-

selves found out even some of those arts which they could not

fully explain; so happily did they improve that accident, of

having some of our people cast upon their shore.

"But if such an accident has at any time brought any from

thence into Europe, we have been so far from improving it, that

we do not so much as remember it; as in after-times perhaps it

will be forgot by our people that I was ever there. For though

they from one such accident made themselves masters of all

the good inventions that were among us; yet I believe it would

be long before we should learn or put in practice any of the

good institutions that are among them. And this is the true

cause of their being better governed, and living happier than

we, though we come not short of them in point of understand-

ing or outward advantages."

Upon this I said to him: "I earnestly beg you would de-

scribe that island very particularly to us. Be not too short,

but set out in order all things relating to their soil, their rivers,

their towns, their people, their manners, constitution, laws,

and, in a word, all that you imagine we desire to know. And

you may well imagine that we desire to know everything con-

cerning them, of which we are hitherto ignorant."

"I will do it very willingly," said he, "for I have digested

the whole matter carefully; but it will take up some time."

"Let us go then," said I, "first and dine, and then 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 my servants to

take care that none might come and interrupt us. And both

Peter and I desired Raphael to be as good as his word. When

he saw that we were very intent upon it, he paused a little to

recollect himself, and began in this manner:

BOOK II

THE island of Utopia is in the middle 200 miles broad, and

holds almost at the same breadth over a great part of

it; but it grows narrower toward both ends. Its figure

is not unlike a crescent: between its horns, the sea comes in

eleven miles broad, and spreads itself into a great bay, which

is environed with land to the compass of about 500 miles, and

is well secured from winds. In this bay there is no great cur-

rent; the whole coast is, as it were, one continued harbor, which

gives all that live in the island great convenience for mutual

commerce; but the entry into the bay, occasioned by rocks on

the one hand, and shallows on the other, is very dangerous. In

the middle of it there is one single rock which appears above

water, and may therefore be easily avoided, and on the top of

it there is a tower in which a garrison is kept; the other rocks

lie under water, and are very dangerous. The channel is

known only to the natives, so that if any stranger should enter

into the bay, without one of their pilots, he would run great

danger of shipwreck; for even they themselves could not pass

it safe, if some marks that are on the coast did not direct their

way; and if these should be but a little shifted, any fleet that

might come against them, how great soever it were, would be

certainly lost.

On the other side of the island there are likewise many har-

bors; and the coast is so fortified, both by nature and art, that a

small number of men can hinder the descent of a great army.

But they report (and there remain good marks of it to make it

credible) that this was no island at first, but a part of the con-

tinent. Utopus that conquered it (whose name it still carries,

for Abraxa was its first name) brought the rude and uncivilized

inhabitants 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, he designed to separate them from

the continent, and to bring the sea quite round them. To ac-

complish this, he ordered a deep channel to be dug fifteen miles

long; and that the natives might not think he treated them like

slaves, he not only forced the inhabitants, but also his own sol-

diers, to labor in carrying it on. As he set a vast number of

men to work, he beyond all men's expectations brought it to a

speedy conclusion. And his neighbors who at first laughed at

the folly of the undertaking, no sooner saw it brought to per-

fection than they were struck with admiration and terror.

There are fifty-four cities in the island, all large and well

built: the manners, customs, and laws of which are the same,

and they are all contrived as near in the same manner as the

ground on which they stand will allow. The nearest lie at least

twenty-four miles distance from one another, and the most re-

mote are not so far distant but that a man can go on foot in one

day from it to that which lies next it. Every city sends three

of its wisest Senators once a year to Amaurot, to consult about

their common concerns; for that is the chief town of the island,

being situated near the centre of it, so that it is the most con-

venient place for their assemblies. The jurisdiction of every

city extends at least twenty miles: and where the towns lie

wider, they have much more ground: no town desires to en-

large its bounds, for the people consider themselves rather as

tenants than landlords. They have built over all the country,

farmhouses for husbandmen, which are well contrived, and are

furnished with all things necessary for country labor. Inhabi-

tants are sent by turns from the cities to dwell in them; no

country family has fewer than forty men and women in it, be-

sides two slaves. There is a master and a mistress set over

every family; and over thirty families there is a magistrate.

Every year twenty of this family come back to the town, after

they have stayed two years in the country; and in their room

there are other twenty sent from the town, that they may learn

country work from those that have been already one year in the

country, as they must teach those that come to them the next

from the town. By this means such as dwell in those country

farms are never ignorant of agriculture, and so commit no

errors, which might otherwise be fatal, and bring them under

a scarcity of corn. But though there is every year such a shift-

ing of the husbandmen, to prevent any man being forced against

his will to follow that hard course of life too long, yet many

among them take such pleasure in it that they desire leave to

continue in it many years. These husbandmen till the ground,

breed cattle, hew wood, and convey it to the towns, either by

land or water, as is most convenient. They breed an infinite

multitude of chickens in a very curious manner; for the hens

do not sit and hatch them, but vast numbers of eggs are laid in

a gentle and equal heat, in order to be hatched, and they are

no sooner out of the shell, and able to stir about, but they seem

to consider those that feed them as their mothers, and follow

them as other chickens do the hen that hatched them.

They breed very few horses, but those they have are full of

mettle, and are kept only for exercising their youth in the 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 their horses are stronger, yet they find oxen

can hold out longer; and as they are not subject to so many dis-

eases, so they are kept upon a less charge, and with less trouble;

and even when they are so worn out, that they are no more fit

for labor, they are good meat at last. They sow no corn, but

that which is to be their bread; for they drink either wine, cider,

or perry, and often water, sometimes boiled with honey or lic-

orice, with which they abound; and though they know exactly

how much corn will serve every town, and all that tract of coun-

try which belongs to it, yet they sow much more, and breed

more cattle than are necessary for their consumption; and they

give that overplus of which they make no use to their neighbors.

When they want anything in the country which it does not pro-

duce, they fetch that from the town, without carrying anything

in exchange for it. And the magistrates of the town take care

to see it given them; 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 in the towns, and

let them know how many hands they will need for reaping the

harvest; and the number they call for being sent to them, they

commonly despatch it all in one day.

Of Their Towns, Particularly of Amaurot

HE that knows one of their towns knows them all, they are

so like one another, except w here the situation makes some dif-

ference. I shall therefore describe one of them; and none is so

proper as Amaurot; for as none is more eminent, all the rest

yielding in precedence to this, because it is the seat of their

Supreme Council, so there was none of them better known to

me, I having lived five years altogether in it.

It lies upon the side of a hill, or rather a rising ground: its

figure is almost square, for from the one side of it, which shoots

up almost to the top 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 that river. The Anider

rises about eighty miles above Amaurot, in a small spring at

first, but other brooks falling into it, of which two are more

considerable than the rest. As it runs by Amaurot, it is grown

half a mile broad; but it still 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 above the town, it ebbs

and flows every six hours, with a strong current. The tide

comes up for about thirty miles so full that there is nothing but

salt water in the river, the fresh water being driven back with

its force; and above that, for some 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 the sea.

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 is farthest from the sea, so that ships without

any hinderance lie all along the 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 same

hill on which the town stands, and so runs down through it,

and falls into the Anider. The inhabitants have fortified the

fountain-head of this river, which springs a little without the

town; so that if they should happen to be besieged, the enemy

might not be able to stop or divert the course of the water, nor

poison it; from thence it is carried in earthen pipes to the lower

streets; and for those places of the town to which the water of

that shall river cannot be conveyed, they have great cisterns for

receiving the rain-water, which supplies the want of the other.

The town is cormpassed with a high and thick wall, in which

there are many towers and forts; there is also a broad and deep

dry ditch, set thick with thorns, cast round three sides of the

town, and the river is instead of a ditch on the fourth side.

The streets are very convenient for all carriage, and are well

sheltered from the winds. Their buildings are good, and are

so uniform that a whole side of a street looks like one house.

The streets are twenty feet broad; there lie gardens behind all

their houses; these are large but enclosed with buildings that

on all hands face the streets; so that every house has both a

door to the street, and a back door to the garden. Their doors

have all two leaves, which, as they are easily opened, so they

shut of their own accord; and there being no property among

them, every man may freely enter into any house whatsoever.

At every ten years' end they shift their houses by lots.

They cultivate their gardens with great care, so that they

have vines, fruits, herbs, and flowers in them; and all is so well

ordered, and so finely kept, that I never saw gardens anywhere

that were both so fruitful and so beautiful as theirs. And this

humor of ordering their gardens so well is not only kept up

by the pleasure they find in 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 whole town that

is both more useful and more pleasant. So that he who found-

ed the town seems to have taken care of nothing more than of

their gardens; for they say, the whole scheme of the town was

designed at first by Utopus, but he left all that belonged to the

ornament and improvement of it to be added by those that

should come after him, that being too much for one man to

bring to perfection. Their records, that contain the history of

their town and State, are preserved with an exact care, and run

backward 1,760 years. From these it appears that their houses

were at first low and mean, like cottages, made of any sort of

timber, and were built with mud walls and thatched with straw.

But now their houses are three stories high: the fronts of them

are faced with stone, plastering, or brick; and between the fac-

ings of their walls they throw in their rubbish. Their roofs are

flat, and on them they lay a sort of plaster, which costs very lit-

tle, and yet is so tempered that 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 their windows.

They use also in their windows a thin linen cloth, that is so

oiled or gummed 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 called the syphogrant, but is now called the philarch;

and over every ten syphogrants, with the families subject to

them, there is another magistrate, who was anciently called the

tranibor, but of late the archphilarch. All the syphogrants,

who are in number 200, choose the Prince out of a list of four,

who are named by the people of the four divisions of the city;

but they take an oath before they proceed to an election, that

they will choose him whom they think most fit for the office.

They give their voices secretly, so that it is not known for whom

everyone gives his suffrage. The Prince is for life, unless he

is removed upon suspicion of some design to enslave the people.

The tranibors are new-chosen every year, but yet they are for

the most part continued. All their other magistrates are only

annual. The tranibors meet every third day, and oftener if

necessary, and consult with the prince, either concerning the

affairs of the State in general or such private differences as

may arise sometimes among the people; though that falls out

but seldom. There are always two syphogrants called into the

council-chamber, and these are changed every day. It is a

fundamental rule of their government that no conclusion can

be made in anything that relates to the public till it has been

first debated three several days in their Council. It is death

for any to meet and consult concerning the State, unless it be

either in their ordinary Council, or in the assembly of the whole

body of the people.

These things have been so provided among them, that the

prince and the tranibors may not conspire together to change

the government and enslave the people; and therefore when

anything of great importance is set on foot, it is sent to the

syphogrants; who after they have communicated it to the fami-

lies that belong to their divisions, and have considered it among

themselves, make report to the Senate; and upon great occa-

sions, the matter is referred to the Council of the whole island.

One rule observed in their Council, is, never to debate a thing

on the same day in which it is first proposed; for that is always

referred to the next meeting, that so men may not rashly, and in

the heat of discourse, engage themselves too soon, which might

bias them so much, that instead of consulting the good of the

public, they might rather study to support their first opinions,

and by a perverse and preposterous sort of shame, hazard their

country rather than endanger their own reputation, or venture

the being suspected to have wanted foresight in the expedients

that they at first proposed. And therefore to prevent this, they

take care that they may rather be deliberate than sudden in their

motions.

Of Their Trades, and Manner of Life

AGRICULTURE is that which is so universally understood

among them that no person, either man or woman, is ignorant

of it; they are instructed in it from their childhood, partly by

what they learn at school and partly by practice; they being led

out often into the fields, about the town, where they not only

see others at work, but are likewise exercised in it themselves.

Besides agriculture, which is so common to them all, every man

has some peculiar trade to which he applies himself, such as the

manufacture of wool, or flax, masonry, smith's work, or car-

penter's work; for there is no sort of trade that is not in great

esteem among them. Throughout the island they wear the

same sort of clothes without any other distinction, except what

is necessary to distinguish the two sexes, and the married and

unmarried. The fashion never alters; and as it is neither dis-

agreeable nor uneasy, so it is suited to the climate, and calculat-

ed both for their summers and winters. Every family makes

their own clothes; but all among them, women as well as men,

learn one or other of the trades formerly mentioned. Women,

for the most part, deal in wool and flax, which suit best with

their weakness, leaving the ruder trades to the men. The same

trade generally passes down from father to son, inclinations

often following descent; but if any man's genius lies another

way, he is by adoption translated into a family that deals in the

trade to which he is inclined: and when that is to be done, care

is taken not only by his father, but by the magistrate, that he

may be put to a discreet and good man. And if after a person

has learned one trade, he desires to acquire another, 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 the public has more occasion for the other.

The chief, and almost the only business of the syphogrants,

is to take care that 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 it

is everywhere the common course of life among all mechanics

except the Utopians; but they dividing the day and night into

twenty-four hours, appoint six of these for work; three of

which are before dinner, and three after. They then sup, and

at eight o'clock, counting from noon, go to bed and sleep eight

hours. The rest of their time besides that taken up in work,

eating and sleeping, is left to every man's discretion; yet they

are not to abuse that interval to luxury and idleness, but must

employ it in some proper exercise according to their various in-

clinations, 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 for literature; yet a great many, both men and women of

all ranks, go to hear lectures of one sort of other, according

to their inclinations. But if others, that are not made for con-

templation, choose rather to employ themselves at that time in

their trades, as many of them do, they are not hindered, but are

rather commended, as men that take care to serve their country.

After supper, they spend an hour in some diversion, in summer

in their gardens, and in winter in the halls where they eat;

where they entertain each other, either with music or discourse.

They do not so much as know dice, or any such foolish and mis-

chievous 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, consumes another: the other resembles

a battle between the virtues and the vices, in which the enmity

in the vices among themselves, and their agreement against

virtue, is not unpleasantly represented; together with the spe-

cial oppositions between the particular virtues and vices; as also

the methods by which vice either openly assaults or secretly

undermines virtue, and virtue on the other hand resists it. But

the time appointed for labor is to be narrowly examined, other-

wise you may imagine, that since there are only six hours ap-

pointed for work, they may fall under a scarcity of necessary

provisions. But it is so far from being true, that this time is

not sufficient for supplying them with plenty of all things,

either necessary or convenient, that it is rather too much; and

this you will easily apprehend, if you consider how great a part

of all other nations is quite idle.

First, women generally do little, who are the half of man-

kind; and if some few women are diligent, their husbands are

idle: then consider the great company of idle priests, and of

those that are called religious men; add to these all rich men,

chiefly those that have estates in land, who are called noblemen

and gentlemen, together with their families, made up of idle

persons, that are kept more for show than use; add to these, all

those strong and lusty beggars, that go about pretending some

disease, in excuse for their begging; and upon the whole ac-

count you will find that the number of those by whose labors

mankind is supplied, is much less than you perhaps imagined.

Then consider how few of those that work are employed in

labors that are of real service; for we who measure all things

by money, give rise to many trades that are both vain and super-

fluous, and serve only to support riot and luxury. For if those

who work were employed only in such things as the conven-

iences of life require, there would be such an abundance of them

that the prices of them would so sink that tradesmen could not

be maintained by their gains; if all those who labor about use-

less things were set to more profitable employments, and if all

they that languish out their lives in sloth and idleness, every

one of whom consumes as much as any two of the men that are

at work, were forced to labor, you may easily imagine that a

small proportion of time would serve for doing all that is either

necessary, profitable, or pleasant 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 the territory that lies round it, you can scarce find

500, either men or women, by their age and strength, are capa-

ble of labor, 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 of the people. The like exemption is allowed to those who,

being recommended to the people by the priests, are by the

secret suffrages of the syphogrants privileged from labor, that

they may apply themselves wholly to study; and if any of these

fall short of those hopes that they seemed at first to give, they

are obliged to return to work. And sometimes a mechanic,

that so employs his leisure hours, as to make a considerable

advancement in learning, is eased from being a tradesman, and

ranked among their learned men. Out of these they choose

their 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 to be idle, nor to be employed in any fruitless

labor, you may easily make the estimate how much may be done

in those few hours in which they are obliged to labor. But

besides all that has been already said, it is to be considered that

the needful arts among them are managed with less labor than

anywhere else. 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 fall into decay, so that his succes-

sor must, at a great cost, repair that which he might have kept

up with a small charge: it frequently happens that the same

house which one person built at a vast expense is neglected by

another, who thinks he has a more delicate sense of the beauties

of architecture; and he suffering it to fall to ruin, builds an-

other at no less charge. But among the Utopians all things are

so regulated that men very seldom build upon a new piece of

ground; and are not only very quick in repairing their houses,

but show their foresight in preventing their decay: so that their

buildlngs are preserved very long, with but little labor, and

thus the builders to whom that care belongs are often without

employment, except the hewing of timber and the squaring of

stones, that the materials may be in readiness for raising a

building very suddenly when there is any occasion for it.

As to their clothes, observe how little work is spent in them:

while they are at labor, they are clothed with leather and skins.

cast carelessly about them, which will last seven years; and

when they appear in public they put on an upper garment,

which hides the other; and these are all of one color, and that

is the natural color 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 labor, and they value cloth only by the white-

ness of the linen or the cleanness of the wool, without much

regard to the fineness of the thread: while in other places, four

or five upper garments of woollen cloth, of different colors,

and as many vests of silk, will scarce serve one man; and while

those that are nicer think ten are too few, every man there is

content with one, which very often serves him two years. Nor

is there anything that can tempt a man to desire more; for if he

had them, he would neither be the warmer nor would he make

one jot the better appearance for it. And thus, since they are

all employed in some useful labor, and since they content them-

selves with fewer things, it falls out that there is a great abun-

dance of all things among them: so that it frequently happens

that, for want of other work, vast numbers are sent out to mend

the highways. But when no public undertaking is to be per-

formed, the hours of working are lessened. The magistrates

never engage the people in unnecessary labor, since the chief

end of the constitution is to regulate labor by the necessities of

the public, and to allow all the people as much time as is neces-

sary for the improvement of their minds, 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 this people, their commerce, and the rules by which all things

are distributed among them.

As their cities are composed of families, so their families are

made up of those that are nearly related to one another. Their

women, when they grow up, are married out; but all the males,

both children and grandchildren, live still in the same house,

in great obedience to their common parent, unless age has weak-

ened his understanding: and in that case, he that is next to him

in age comes in his room. But lest any city should become

either too great, or by any accident be dispeopled, provision is

made that none of their cities may contain above 6,000 families,

besides those of the country round it. No family may have

less than ten and more than sixteen persons in it; but there can

be no determined number for the children under age. This

rule is easily observed, by removing some of the children of a

more fruitful couple to any other family that does not abound

so much in them.

By the same rule, they supply cities that do not increase so

fast, from others that breed faster; and if there is any increase

over the whole island, then they draw out a number of their

citizens out of the several towns, and send them over to the

neighboring continent; where, if they find that the inhabitants

have more soil than they can well cultivate, they fix a colony,

taking the inhabitants into their society, if they are willing to

live with them; and where they do that of their own accord,

they quickly enter into their method of life, and conform to their

rules, and this proves a happiness to both nations; for accord-

ing to their constitution, such care is taken of the soil that it

becomes fruitful enough for both, though it might be otherwise

too narrow and barren for any one of them. But if the natives

refuse to conform themselves to their laws, they drive them out

of those bounds which they mark out for themselves, and use

force if they resist. For they account it a very just cause of

war, for a nation to hinder others from possessing a part of

that soil of which they make no use, but which is suffered to lie

idle and uncultivated; since every man has by the law of nature

a right 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 their towns that it cannot be made up

from the other towns of the island, without diminishing them

too much, which is said to have fallen out but twice since they

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 their colonies; for they will abandon these, rather

than suffer the towns in the island to sink too low.

But to return to their manner of living in society, the oldest

man of every family, as has been already said, is its governor.

Wives serve their husbands, 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 is a market-

place: what is brought thither, and manufactured by the sev-

eral families, is carried from thence to houses appointed for

that purpose, in which all things of a sort are laid by them-

selves; and thither every father goes and takes whatsoever he

or his family stand in need of, without either paying for it or

leaving anything in exchange. There is no reason for giving

a denial to any person, since there is such plenty of everything

among them; and there is no danger of a man's asking for

more than he needs; they have no inducements to do this, since

they are sure that they shall always be supplied. It is the fear

of want that makes any of the whole race of animals either

greedy or ravenous; but besides fear, there is in man a pride

that makes him fancy it a particular glory to excel others in

pomp and excess. But by the laws of the Utopians, there is

no room for this. Near these markets there are others for all

sorts of provisions, where there are not only herbs, fruits, and

bread, but also fish, fowl, and cattle.

There are also, without their towns, places appointed near

some running water, for killing their beasts, and for washing

away their filth, which is done by their slaves: for they suffer

none of their citizens 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 much impaired by the

butchering of animals: nor do they suffer anything that is foul

or unclean to be brought within their towns, lest the air should

be infected by ill-smells which might prejudice their health.

In every street there are great halls that lie at an equal distance

from each other, distinguished by particular names. The sy-

phogrants dwell in those that are set over thirty families, fifteen

lying on one side of it, and as many on the other. In these

halls they all meet and have their repasts. The stewards of

every one of them come to the market-place at an appointed

hour; and according to the number of those that belong to the

hall, they carry home provisions. But they take more care of

their sick than of any others: these are lodged and provided

for in public hospitals they have belonging to every town four

hospitals, that are built without their walls, and are so large

that they may pass for little towns: by this means, if they had

ever such a number of sick persons, they could lodge them con-

veniently, and at such a distance, that such of them as are sick

of infectious diseases may be kept so far from the rest that there

can be no danger of contagion. The hospitals are furnished

and stored with all things that are convenient for the ease and

recovery of the sick; and those that are put in them are looked

after with such tender and watchful care, and are so constantly

attended by their skilful physicians, that as none is sent to them

against their will, so there is scarce one in a whole town that,

if he should fall 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 the physician prescribes, then the best things that

are left in the market are distributed equally among the halls,

in proportion to their numbers, only, in the first place, they

serve the Prince, the chief priest, the tranibors, the ambassa-

dors, and strangers, if there are any, which indeed falls out but

seldom, and for whom there are houses well furnished, par-

ticularly appointed for their reception when they come among

them. At the hours of dinner and supper, the whole sypho-

granty being called together by sound of trumpet, they meet

and eat together, except only such as are in the hospitals or lie

sick at home. Yet after the halls are served, no man is hin-

dered to carry provisions home from the market-place; for they

know that none does that but for some good reason; 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

trouble to make ready an ill dinner at home, when there is a

much more plentiful one made ready for him so near at hand.

All the uneasy and sordid services about these halls are per-

formed by their slaves; but the dressing and cooking their meat,

and the ordering their tables, belong only to the women, all

those of every family taking it by turns. They sit at three or

more tables, according to their number; the men sit toward the

wall, and the women sit on the other side, that if any of them

should be taken suddenly ill, which is no uncommon case

among women with child, she may, without disturbing the rest,

rise and go to the nurses' room, who are there with the sucking

children, where there is always clean water at hand, and cradles

in which they may lay the young children, if there is occasion

for it, and a fire that they may shift and dress them before it.

Every child is nursed by its own mother, if death or sickness

does not intervene; and in that case the syphogrants' wives find

out a nurse quickly, which is no hard matter; for anyone that

can do it offers herself cheerfully; for as they are much inclined

to that piece of mercy, so the child whom the nurse considers

the nurse as its mother. All the children under five years old

sit among the nurses, the rest of the younger sort of both sexes,

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, and eat what is given them; nor have they any

other formality of dining. In the middle of the first table,

which stands across the upper end of the hall, sit the sypho-

grant and his wife; for that is the chief and most conspicu-

ous place: next to him sit two of the most ancient, for there go

always four to a mess. If there is a temple within that sypho-

granty, the priest and his wife sit with the syphogrant ahove

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 with the more ancient; which they say was

appointed on this account, that the gravity of the old people,

and the reverence that is due to them, might restrain the

younger from all indecent words and gestures. Dishes are not

served up to the whole table at first, but the best are first set

before the old, whose seats are distinguished from the young,

and after them all the rest are served alike. The old men dis-

tribute to the younger any curious meats that happen to be set

before them, if there is not such an abundance of them that

the whole company may be served alike.

Thus old men are honored with a particular respect; yet all

the rest fare as well as they. Both dinner and supper are be-

gun with some lecture of morality that is read to them; but it

is so short, that it is not tedious nor uneasy to them to hear it:

from hence the old men take occasion to entertain those about

them with some useful and pleasant enlargements; but they do

not engross the whole discourse so to themselves, during their

meals, that the younger may not put in for a share: on the con-

trary, 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 sleep after the other, during which they think the stomach

carries on the concoction more vigorously. They never sup

without music; and there is always fruit served up after meat;

while they are at table, some burn perfumes and sprinkle about

fragrant ointments and sweet waters: in short, they want noth-

ing that may cheer up their spirits: they give themselves a large

allowance that way, and indulge themselves in all such pleas-

ures as are attended with no inconvenience. Thus do those

that are in the towns live together; but in the country, where

they live at great distance, everyone eats at home, and no family

wants any necessary sort of provision, for it is from them that

provisions are sent unto those 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, or desires to travel and see the rest of the country,

he obtains leave very easily from the syphogrant and tranibors

when there is no particular occasion for him at home: such as

travel, carry with them a passport from the Prince, which both

certifies the license that is granted for travelling, and limits the

time of their return. They are furnished with a wagon, and a

slave who drives the oxen and looks after them; but unless

there are women in the company, the wagon is sent back at the

end of the journey as a needless encumbrance. While they are

on the road, they carry no provisions with them; yet they want

nothing, but are everywhere treated as if they were at home.

If they stay in any place longer than a night, everyone follows

his proper occupation, and is very well used by those of his own

trade; but if any man goes out of the city to which he belongs,

without leave, and is found rambling without a passport, he is

severely treated, he is punished as a fugitive, and sent home

disgracefully; and if he falls again into the like fault, is con-

demned to slavery. If any man has a mind to travel only over

the precinct of his own city, he may freely do it, with his

father's permission and his wife's consent; but when he comes

into any of the country houses, if he expects to be entertained

by them, he must labor with them and conform to their rules:

and if he does this, he may freely go over the whole precinct;

being thus as useful to the city to which he belongs, as if he

were still within it. Thus you see that there are no idle per-

sons among them, nor pretences of excusing any from labor.

There are no taverns, no alehouses nor stews among them; nor

any other occasions of corrupting each other, of getting into

corners, or forming themselves into parties: all men live in full

view, so that all are obliged, both to perform their ordinary

tasks, and to employ themselves well in their spare hours.

And it is certain that a people thus ordered must live in great

abundance of all things; and these being equally distributed

among them, no man can want, or be obliged to beg.

In their great Council at Amaurot, to which there are three

sent from every town once a year, they examine what towns

abound in provisions and what are under any scarcity, that so

the one may be furnished from the other; and this is done freely,

without any sort of exchange; for according to their plenty

or scarcity they supply or are supplied from one another; so

that indeed the whole island is, as it were, one family. When

they have thus taken care of their whole country, and laid up

stores for two years, which they do to prevent the ill-conse-

quences of an unfavorable season, they order an exportation

of the overplus, 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 freely given to the poor of the countries to

which they send them, and sell the rest at moderate rates. And

by this exchange, they not only bring back those few things

that they need at home (for indeed they scarce need anything

but iron), but likewise a great deal of gold and silver; and by

their driving this trade so long, it is not to be imagined how

vast a treasure they have got among them: so that now they

do not much care whether they sell off their merchandise for

money in hand, or upon trust.

A great part of their treasure is now in bonds; but in all their

contracts no private man stands bound, but the writing runs in

the name of the town; and the towns that owe them money

raise it from those private hands that owe it to them, lay it Up

in their public chamber, or enjoy the profit of it till the Uto-

pians call for it; and they choose rather to let the greatest part

of it lie in their hands who make advantage by it, than to call

for it themselves: but if they see that any of their other neigh-

bors stand more in need of it, then they call it in and lend it to

them: whenever they are engaged in war, which is the only oc-

casion in which their treasure can be usefully employed, they

make use of it themselves. In great extremities or sudden

accidents they employ it in hiring foreign troops, whom they

more willingly 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 engage thern either to betray their

own side, or at least to desert it, and that it is the best means

of raising mutual jealousies among them: for this end they

have an incredible treasure; but they do not keep it as a treas-

ure, but in such a manner as I am almost afraid to tell, lest you

think it so extravagant, as to be hardly credible. This I have

the more reason to apprehend, because if I had not seen it my-

self, I could not have been easily persuaded to have believed

it upon any man's report.

It is certain that all things appear incredible to us, in propor-

tion as they differ from our own customs. But one who can

judge aright will not wonder to find that, since their constitu-

tion differs so much from ours, their value of gold and silver

should be measured by a very different standard; for since they

have no use for money among themselves, but keep it as a pro-