OF THE RELIGIONS OF THE UTOPIANS

“There are several sorts of religions, not only in different parts of

the island, but even in every town; some worshipping the sun, others

the moon or one of the planets. Some worship such men as have been

eminent in former times for virtue or glory, not only as ordinary

deities, but as the supreme god. Yet the greater and wiser sort of them

worship none of these, but adore one eternal, invisible, infinite, and

incomprehensible Deity; as a Being that is far above all our

apprehensions, that is spread over the whole universe, not by His bulk,

but by His power and virtue; Him they call the Father of All, and

acknowledge that the beginnings, the increase, the progress, the

vicissitudes, and the end of all things come only from Him; nor do they

offer divine honours to any but to Him alone. And, indeed, though they

differ concerning other things, yet all agree in this: that they think

there is one Supreme Being that made and governs the world, whom they

call, in the language of their country, Mithras. They differ in this:

that one thinks the god whom he worships is this Supreme Being, and

another thinks that his idol is that god; but they all agree in one

principle, that whoever is this Supreme Being, He is also that great

essence to whose glory and majesty all honours are ascribed by the

consent of all nations.

“By degrees they fall off from the various superstitions that are among

them, and grow up to that one religion that is the best and most in

request; and there is no doubt to be made, but that all the others had

vanished long ago, if some of those who advised them to lay aside their

superstitions had not met with some unhappy accidents, which, being

considered as inflicted by heaven, made them afraid that the god whose

worship had like to have been abandoned had interposed and revenged

themselves on those who despised their authority.

“After they had heard from us an account of the doctrine, the course of

life, and the miracles of Christ, and of the wonderful constancy of so

many martyrs, whose blood, so willingly offered up by them, was the

chief occasion of spreading their religion over a vast number of

nations, it is not to be imagined how inclined they were to receive it.

I shall not determine whether this proceeded from any secret

inspiration of God, or whether it was because it seemed so favourable

to that community of goods, which is an opinion so particular as well

as so dear to them; since they perceived that Christ and His followers

lived by that rule, and that it was still kept up in some communities

among the sincerest sort of Christians. From whichsoever of these

motives it might be, true it is, that many of them came over to our

religion, and were initiated into it by baptism. But as two of our

number were dead, so none of the four that survived were in priests’

orders, we, therefore, could only baptise them, so that, to our great

regret, they could not partake of the other sacraments, that can only

be administered by priests, but they are instructed concerning them and

long most vehemently for them. They have had great disputes among

themselves, whether one chosen by them to be a priest would not be

thereby qualified to do all the things that belong to that character,

even though he had no authority derived from the Pope, and they seemed

to be resolved to choose some for that employment, but they had not

done it when I left them.

“Those among them that have not received our religion do not fright any

from it, and use none ill that goes over to it, so that all the while I

was there one man was only punished on this occasion. He being newly

baptised did, notwithstanding all that we could say to the contrary,

dispute publicly concerning the Christian religion, with more zeal than

discretion, and with so much heat, that he not only preferred our

worship to theirs, but condemned all their rites as profane, and cried

out against all that adhered to them as impious and sacrilegious

persons, that were to be damned to everlasting burnings. Upon his

having frequently preached in this manner he was seized, and after

trial he was condemned to banishment, not for having disparaged their

religion, but for his inflaming the people to sedition; for this is one

of their most ancient laws, that no man ought to be punished for his

religion. At the first constitution of their government, Utopus having

understood that before his coming among them the old inhabitants had

been engaged in great quarrels concerning religion, by which they were

so divided among themselves, that he found it an easy thing to conquer

them, since, instead of uniting their forces against him, every

different party in religion fought by themselves. After he had subdued

them he made a law that every man might be of what religion he pleased,

and might endeavour to draw others to it by the force of argument and

by amicable and modest ways, but without bitterness against those of

other opinions; but that he ought to use no other force but that of

persuasion, and was neither to mix with it reproaches nor violence; and

such as did otherwise were to be condemned to banishment or slavery.

“This law was made by Utopus, not only for preserving the public peace,

which he saw suffered much by daily contentions and irreconcilable

heats, but because he thought the interest of religion itself required

it. He judged it not fit to determine anything rashly; and seemed to

doubt whether those different forms of religion might not all come from

God, who might inspire man in a different manner, and be pleased with

this variety; he therefore thought it indecent and foolish for any man

to threaten and terrify another to make him believe what did not appear

to him to be true. And supposing that only one religion was really

true, and the rest false, he imagined that the native force of truth

would at last break forth and shine bright, if supported only by the

strength of argument, and attended to with a gentle and unprejudiced

mind; while, on the other hand, if such debates were carried on with

violence and tumults, as the most wicked are always the most obstinate,

so the best and most holy religion might be choked with superstition,

as corn is with briars and thorns; he therefore left men wholly to

their liberty, that they might be free to believe as they should see

cause; only he made a solemn and severe law against such as should so

far degenerate from the dignity of human nature, as to think that our

souls died with our bodies, or that the world was governed by chance,

without a wise overruling Providence: for they all formerly believed

that there was a state of rewards and punishments to the good and bad

after this life; and they now look on those that think otherwise as

scarce fit to be counted men, since they degrade so noble a being as

the soul, and reckon it no better than a beast’s: thus they are far

from looking on such men as fit for human society, or to be citizens of

a well-ordered commonwealth; since a man of such principles must needs,

as oft as he dares do it, despise all their laws and customs: for there

is no doubt to be made, that a man who is afraid of nothing but the

law, and apprehends nothing after death, will not scruple to break

through all the laws of his country, either by fraud or force, when by

this means he may satisfy his appetites. They never raise any that hold

these maxims, either to honours or offices, nor employ them in any

public trust, but despise them, as men of base and sordid minds. Yet

they do not punish them, because they lay this down as a maxim, that a

man cannot make himself believe anything he pleases; nor do they drive

any to dissemble their thoughts by threatenings, so that men are not

tempted to lie or disguise their opinions; which being a sort of fraud,

is abhorred by the Utopians: they take care indeed to prevent their

disputing in defence of these opinions, especially before the common

people: but they suffer, and even encourage them to dispute concerning

them in private with their priest, and other grave men, being confident

that they will be cured of those mad opinions by having reason laid

before them. There are many among them that run far to the other

extreme, though it is neither thought an ill nor unreasonable opinion,

and therefore is not at all discouraged. They think that the souls of

beasts are immortal, though far inferior to the dignity of the human

soul, and not capable of so great a happiness. They are almost all of

them very firmly persuaded that good men will be infinitely happy in

another state: so that though they are compassionate to all that are

sick, yet they lament no man’s death, except they see him loath to part

with life; for they look on this as a very ill presage, as if the soul,

conscious to itself of guilt, and quite hopeless, was afraid to leave

the body, from some secret hints of approaching misery. They think that

such a man’s appearance before God cannot be acceptable to Him, who

being called on, does not go out cheerfully, but is backward and

unwilling, and is as it were dragged to it. They are struck with horror

when they see any die in this manner, and carry them out in silence and

with sorrow, and praying God that He would be merciful to the errors of

the departed soul, they lay the body in the ground: but when any die

cheerfully, and full of hope, they do not mourn for them, but sing

hymns when they carry out their bodies, and commending their souls very

earnestly to God: their whole behaviour is then rather grave than sad,

they burn the body, and set up a pillar where the pile was made, with

an inscription to the honour of the deceased. When they come from the

funeral, they discourse of his good life, and worthy actions, but speak

of nothing oftener and with more pleasure than of his serenity at the

hour of death. They think such respect paid to the memory of good men

is both the greatest incitement to engage others to follow their

example, and the most acceptable worship that can be offered them; for

they believe that though by the imperfection of human sight they are

invisible to us, yet they are present among us, and hear those

discourses that pass concerning themselves. They believe it

inconsistent with the happiness of departed souls not to be at liberty

to be where they will: and do not imagine them capable of the

ingratitude of not desiring to see those friends with whom they lived

on earth in the strictest bonds of love and kindness: besides, they are

persuaded that good men, after death, have these affections; and all

other good dispositions increased rather than diminished, and therefore

conclude that they are still among the living, and observe all they say

or do. From hence they engage in all their affairs with the greater

confidence of success, as trusting to their protection; while this

opinion of the presence of their ancestors is a restraint that prevents

their engaging in ill designs.

“They despise and laugh at auguries, and the other vain and

superstitious ways of divination, so much observed among other nations;

but have great reverence for such miracles as cannot flow from any of

the powers of nature, and look on them as effects and indications of

the presence of the Supreme Being, of which they say many instances

have occurred among them; and that sometimes their public prayers,

which upon great and dangerous occasions they have solemnly put up to

God, with assured confidence of being heard, have been answered in a

miraculous manner.

“They think the contemplating God in His works, and the adoring Him for

them, is a very acceptable piece of worship to Him.

“There are many among them that upon a motive of religion neglect

learning, and apply themselves to no sort of study; nor do they allow

themselves any leisure time, but are perpetually employed, believing

that by the good things that a man does he secures to himself that

happiness that comes after death. Some of these visit the sick; others

mend highways, cleanse ditches, repair bridges, or dig turf, gravel, or

stone. Others fell and cleave timber, and bring wood, corn, and other

necessaries, on carts, into their towns; nor do these only serve the

public, but they serve even private men, more than the slaves

themselves do: for if there is anywhere a rough, hard, and sordid piece

of work to be done, from which many are frightened by the labour and

loathsomeness of it, if not the despair of accomplishing it, they

cheerfully, and of their own accord, take that to their share; and by

that means, as they ease others very much, so they afflict themselves,

and spend their whole life in hard labour: and yet they do not value

themselves upon this, nor lessen other people’s credit to raise their

own; but by their stooping to such servile employments they are so far

from being despised, that they are so much the more esteemed by the

whole nation.

“Of these there are two sorts: some live unmarried and chaste, and

abstain from eating any sort of flesh; and thus weaning themselves from

all the pleasures of the present life, which they account hurtful, they

pursue, even by the hardest and painfullest methods possible, that

blessedness which they hope for hereafter; and the nearer they approach

to it, they are the more cheerful and earnest in their endeavours after

it. Another sort of them is less willing to put themselves to much

toil, and therefore prefer a married state to a single one; and as they

do not deny themselves the pleasure of it, so they think the begetting

of children is a debt which they owe to human nature, and to their

country; nor do they avoid any pleasure that does not hinder labour;

and therefore eat flesh so much the more willingly, as they find that

by this means they are the more able to work: the Utopians look upon

these as the wiser sect, but they esteem the others as the most holy.

They would indeed laugh at any man who, from the principles of reason,

would prefer an unmarried state to a married, or a life of labour to an

easy life: but they reverence and admire such as do it from the motives

of religion. There is nothing in which they are more cautious than in

giving their opinion positively concerning any sort of religion. The

men that lead those severe lives are called in the language of their

country Brutheskas, which answers to those we call Religious Orders.

“Their priests are men of eminent piety, and therefore they are but

few, for there are only thirteen in every town, one for every temple;

but when they go to war, seven of these go out with their forces, and

seven others are chosen to supply their room in their absence; but

these enter again upon their employments when they return; and those

who served in their absence, attend upon the high priest, till

vacancies fall by death; for there is one set over the rest. They are

chosen by the people as the other magistrates are, by suffrages given

in secret, for preventing of factions: and when they are chosen, they

are consecrated by the college of priests. The care of all sacred

things, the worship of God, and an inspection into the manners of the

people, are committed to them. It is a reproach to a man to be sent for

by any of them, or for them to speak to him in secret, for that always

gives some suspicion: all that is incumbent on them is only to exhort

and admonish the people; for the power of correcting and punishing ill

men belongs wholly to the Prince, and to the other magistrates: the

severest thing that the priest does is the excluding those that are

desperately wicked from joining in their worship: there is not any sort

of punishment more dreaded by them than this, for as it loads them with

infamy, so it fills them with secret horrors, such is their reverence

to their religion; nor will their bodies be long exempted from their

share of trouble; for if they do not very quickly satisfy the priests

of the truth of their repentance, they are seized on by the Senate, and

punished for their impiety. The education of youth belongs to the

priests, yet they do not take so much care of instructing them in

letters, as in forming their minds and manners aright; they use all

possible methods to infuse, very early, into the tender and flexible

minds of children, such opinions as are both good in themselves and

will be useful to their country, for when deep impressions of these

things are made at that age, they follow men through the whole course

of their lives, and conduce much to preserve the peace of the

government, which suffers by nothing more than by vices that rise out

of ill opinions. The wives of their priests are the most extraordinary

women of the whole country; sometimes the women themselves are made

priests, though that falls out but seldom, nor are any but ancient

widows chosen into that order.

“None of the magistrates have greater honour paid them than is paid the

priests; and if they should happen to commit any crime, they would not

be questioned for it; their punishment is left to God, and to their own

consciences; for they do not think it lawful to lay hands on any man,

how wicked soever he is, that has been in a peculiar manner dedicated

to God; nor do they find any great inconvenience in this, both because

they have so few priests, and because these are chosen with much

caution, so that it must be a very unusual thing to find one who,

merely out of regard to his virtue, and for his being esteemed a

singularly good man, was raised up to so great a dignity, degenerate

into corruption and vice; and if such a thing should fall out, for man

is a changeable creature, yet, there being few priests, and these

having no authority but what rises out of the respect that is paid

them, nothing of great consequence to the public can proceed from the

indemnity that the priests enjoy.

“They have, indeed, very few of them, lest greater numbers sharing in

the same honour might make the dignity of that order, which they esteem

so highly, to sink in its reputation; they also think it difficult to

find out many of such an exalted pitch of goodness as to be equal to

that dignity, which demands the exercise of more than ordinary virtues.

Nor are the priests in greater veneration among them than they are

among their neighbouring nations, as you may imagine by that which I

think gives occasion for it.

“When the Utopians engage in battle, the priests who accompany them to

the war, apparelled in their sacred vestments, kneel down during the

action (in a place not far from the field), and, lifting up their hands

to heaven, pray, first for peace, and then for victory to their own

side, and particularly that it may be gained without the effusion of

much blood on either side; and when the victory turns to their side,

they run in among their own men to restrain their fury; and if any of

their enemies see them or call to them, they are preserved by that

means; and such as can come so near them as to touch their garments

have not only their lives, but their fortunes secured to them; it is

upon this account that all the nations round about consider them so

much, and treat them with such reverence, that they have been often no

less able to preserve their own people from the fury of their enemies

than to save their enemies from their rage; for it has sometimes fallen

out, that when their armies have been in disorder and forced to fly, so

that their enemies were running upon the slaughter and spoil, the

priests by interposing have separated them from one another, and

stopped the effusion of more blood; so that, by their mediation, a

peace has been concluded on very reasonable terms; nor is there any

nation about them so fierce, cruel, or barbarous, as not to look upon

their persons as sacred and inviolable.

“The first and the last day of the month, and of the year, is a

festival; they measure their months by the course of the moon, and

their years by the course of the sun: the first days are called in

their language the Cynemernes, and the last the Trapemernes, which

answers in our language, to the festival that begins or ends the

season.

“They have magnificent temples, that are not only nobly built, but

extremely spacious, which is the more necessary as they have so few of

them; they are a little dark within, which proceeds not from any error

in the architecture, but is done with design; for their priests think

that too much light dissipates the thoughts, and that a more moderate

degree of it both recollects the mind and raises devotion. Though there

are many different forms of religion among them, yet all these, how

various soever, agree in the main point, which is the worshipping the

Divine Essence; and, therefore, there is nothing to be seen or heard in

their temples in which the several persuasions among them may not

agree; for every sect performs those rites that are peculiar to it in

their private houses, nor is there anything in the public worship that

contradicts the particular ways of those different sects. There are no

images for God in their temples, so that every one may represent Him to

his thoughts according to the way of his religion; nor do they call

this one God by any other name but that of Mithras, which is the common

name by which they all express the Divine Essence, whatsoever otherwise

they think it to be; nor are there any prayers among them but such as

every one of them may use without prejudice to his own opinion.

“They meet in their temples on the evening of the festival that

concludes a season, and not having yet broke their fast, they thank God

for their good success during that year or month which is then at an

end; and the next day, being that which begins the new season, they

meet early in their temples, to pray for the happy progress of all

their affairs during that period upon which they then enter. In the

festival which concludes the period, before they go to the temple, both

wives and children fall on their knees before their husbands or parents

and confess everything in which they have either erred or failed in

their duty, and beg pardon for it. Thus all little discontents in

families are removed, that they may offer up their devotions with a

pure and serene mind; for they hold it a great impiety to enter upon

them with disturbed thoughts, or with a consciousness of their bearing

hatred or anger in their hearts to any person whatsoever; and think

that they should become liable to severe punishments if they presumed

to offer sacrifices without cleansing their hearts, and reconciling all

their differences. In the temples the two sexes are separated, the men

go to the right hand, and the women to the left; and the males and

females all place themselves before the head and master or mistress of

the family to which they belong, so that those who have the government

of them at home may see their deportment in public. And they

intermingle them so, that the younger and the older may be set by one

another; for if the younger sort were all set together, they would,

perhaps, trifle away that time too much in which they ought to beget in

themselves that religious dread of the Supreme Being which is the

greatest and almost the only incitement to virtue.

“They offer up no living creature in sacrifice, nor do they think it

suitable to the Divine Being, from whose bounty it is that these

creatures have derived their lives, to take pleasure in their deaths,

or the offering up their blood. They burn incense and other sweet

odours, and have a great number of wax lights during their worship, not

out of any imagination that such oblations can add anything to the

divine nature (which even prayers cannot do), but as it is a harmless

and pure way of worshipping God; so they think those sweet savours and

lights, together with some other ceremonies, by a secret and

unaccountable virtue, elevate men’s souls, and inflame them with

greater energy and cheerfulness during the divine worship.

“All the people appear in the temples in white garments; but the

priest’s vestments are parti-coloured, and both the work and colours

are wonderful. They are made of no rich materials, for they are neither

embroidered nor set with precious stones; but are composed of the

plumes of several birds, laid together with so much art, and so neatly,

that the true value of them is far beyond the costliest materials. They

say, that in the ordering and placing those plumes some dark mysteries

are represented, which pass down among their priests in a secret

tradition concerning them; and that they are as hieroglyphics, putting

them in mind of the blessing that they have received from God, and of

their duties, both to Him and to their neighbours. As soon as the

priest appears in those ornaments, they all fall prostrate on the

ground, with so much reverence and so deep a silence, that such as look

on cannot but be struck with it, as if it were the effect of the

appearance of a deity. After they have been for some time in this

posture, they all stand up, upon a sign given by the priest, and sing

hymns to the honour of God, some musical instruments playing all the

while. These are quite of another form than those used among us; but,

as many of them are much sweeter than ours, so others are made use of

by us. Yet in one thing they very much exceed us: all their music, both

vocal and instrumental, is adapted to imitate and express the passions,

and is so happily suited to every occasion, that, whether the subject

of the hymn be cheerful, or formed to soothe or trouble the mind, or to

express grief or remorse, the music takes the impression of whatever is

represented, affects and kindles the passions, and works the sentiments

deep into the hearts of the hearers. When this is done, both priests

and people offer up very solemn prayers to God in a set form of words;

and these are so composed, that whatsoever is pronounced by the whole

assembly may be likewise applied by every man in particular to his own

condition. In these they acknowledge God to be the author and governor

of the world, and the fountain of all the good they receive, and

therefore offer up to him their thanksgiving; and, in particular, bless

him for His goodness in ordering it so, that they are born under the

happiest government in the world, and are of a religion which they hope

is the truest of all others; but, if they are mistaken, and if there is

either a better government, or a religion more acceptable to God, they

implore His goodness to let them know it, vowing that they resolve to

follow him whithersoever he leads them; but if their government is the

best, and their religion the truest, then they pray that He may fortify

them in it, and bring all the world both to the same rules of life, and

to the same opinions concerning Himself, unless, according to the

unsearchableness of His mind, He is pleased with a variety of

religions. Then they pray that God may give them an easy passage at

last to Himself, not presuming to set limits to Him, how early or late

it should be; but, if it may be wished for without derogating from His

supreme authority, they desire to be quickly delivered, and to be taken

to Himself, though by the most terrible kind of death, rather than to

be detained long from seeing Him by the most prosperous course of life.

When this prayer is ended, they all fall down again upon the ground;

and, after a little while, they rise up, go home to dinner, and spend

the rest of the day in diversion or military exercises.

“Thus have I described to you, as particularly as I could, the

Constitution of that commonwealth, which I do not only think the best

in the world, but indeed the only commonwealth that truly deserves that

name. In all other places it is visible that, while people talk of a

commonwealth, every man only seeks his own wealth; but there, where no

man has any property, all men zealously pursue the good of the public,

and, indeed, it is no wonder to see men act so differently, for in

other commonwealths every man knows that, unless he provides for

himself, how flourishing soever the commonwealth may be, he must die of

hunger, so that he sees the necessity of preferring his own concerns to

the public; but in Utopia, where every man has a right to everything,

they all know that if care is taken to keep the public stores full no

private man can want anything; for among them there is no unequal

distribution, so that no man is poor, none in necessity, and though no

man has anything, yet they are all rich; for what can make a man so

rich as to lead a serene and cheerful life, free from anxieties;

neither apprehending want himself, nor vexed with the endless

complaints of his wife? He is not afraid of the misery of his children,

nor is he contriving how to raise a portion for his daughters; but is

secure in this, that both he and his wife, his children and

grand-children, to as many generations as he can fancy, will all live

both plentifully and happily; since, among them, there is no less care

taken of those who were once engaged in labour, but grow afterwards

unable to follow it, than there is, elsewhere, of these that continue

still employed. I would gladly hear any man compare the justice that is

among them with that of all other nations; among whom, may I perish, if

I see anything that looks either like justice or equity; for what

justice is there in this: that a nobleman, a goldsmith, a banker, or

any other man, that either does nothing at all, or, at best, is

employed in things that are of no use to the public, should live in

great luxury and splendour upon what is so ill acquired, and a mean

man, a carter, a smith, or a ploughman, that works harder even than the

beasts themselves, and is employed in labours so necessary, that no

commonwealth could hold out a year without them, can only earn so poor

a livelihood and must lead so miserable a life, that the condition of

the beasts is much better than theirs? For as the beasts do not work so

constantly, so they feed almost as well, and with more pleasure, and

have no anxiety about what is to come, whilst these men are depressed

by a barren and fruitless employment, and tormented with the

apprehensions of want in their old age; since that which they get by

their daily labour does but maintain them at present, and is consumed

as fast as it comes in, there is no overplus left to lay up for old

age.

“Is not that government both unjust and ungrateful, that is so prodigal

of its favours to those that are called gentlemen, or goldsmiths, or

such others who are idle, or live either by flattery or by contriving

the arts of vain pleasure, and, on the other hand, takes no care of

those of a meaner sort, such as ploughmen, colliers, and smiths,

without whom it could not subsist? But after the public has reaped all

the advantage of their service, and they come to be oppressed with age,

sickness, and want, all their labours and the good they have done is

forgotten, and all the recompense given them is that they are left to

die in great misery. The richer sort are often endeavouring to bring

the hire of labourers lower, not only by their fraudulent practices,

but by the laws which they procure to be made to that effect, so that

though it is a thing most unjust in itself to give such small rewards

to those who deserve so well of the public, yet they have given those

hardships the name and colour of justice, by procuring laws to be made

for regulating them.

“Therefore I must say that, as I hope for mercy, I can have no other

notion of all the other governments that I see or know, than that they

are a conspiracy of the rich, who, on pretence of managing the public,

only pursue their private ends, and devise all the ways and arts they

can find out; first, that they may, without danger, preserve all that

they have so ill-acquired, and then, that they may engage the poor to

toil and labour for them at as low rates as possible, and oppress them

as much as they please; and if they can but prevail to get these

contrivances established by the show of public authority, which is

considered as the representative of the whole people, then they are

accounted laws; yet these wicked men, after they have, by a most

insatiable covetousness, divided that among themselves with which all

the rest might have been well supplied, are far from that happiness

that is enjoyed among the Utopians; for the use as well as the desire

of money being extinguished, much anxiety and great occasions of

mischief is cut off with it, and who does not see that the frauds,

thefts, robberies, quarrels, tumults, contentions, seditions, murders,

treacheries, and witchcrafts, which are, indeed, rather punished than

restrained by the severities of law, would all fall off, if money were

not any more valued by the world? Men’s fears, solicitudes, cares,

labours, and watchings would all perish in the same moment with the

value of money; even poverty itself, for the relief of which money

seems most necessary, would fall. But, in order to the apprehending

this aright, take one instance:—

“Consider any year, that has been so unfruitful that many thousands

have died of hunger; and yet if, at the end of that year, a survey was

made of the granaries of all the rich men that have hoarded up the

corn, it would be found that there was enough among them to have

prevented all that consumption of men that perished in misery; and

that, if it had been distributed among them, none would have felt the

terrible effects of that scarcity: so easy a thing would it be to

supply all the necessities of life, if that blessed thing called money,

which is pretended to be invented for procuring them was not really the

only thing that obstructed their being procured!

“I do not doubt but rich men are sensible of this, and that they well

know how much a greater happiness it is to want nothing necessary, than

to abound in many superfluities; and to be rescued out of so much

misery, than to abound with so much wealth: and I cannot think but the

sense of every man’s interest, added to the authority of Christ’s

commands, who, as He was infinitely wise, knew what was best, and was

not less good in discovering it to us, would have drawn all the world

over to the laws of the Utopians, if pride, that plague of human

nature, that source of so much misery, did not hinder it; for this vice

does not measure happiness so much by its own conveniences, as by the

miseries of others; and would not be satisfied with being thought a

goddess, if none were left that were miserable, over whom she might

insult. Pride thinks its own happiness shines the brighter, by

comparing it with the misfortunes of other persons; that by displaying

its own wealth they may feel their poverty the more sensibly. This is

that infernal serpent that creeps into the breasts of mortals, and

possesses them too much to be easily drawn out; and, therefore, I am

glad that the Utopians have fallen upon this form of government, in

which I wish that all the world could be so wise as to imitate them;

for they have, indeed, laid down such a scheme and foundation of

policy, that as men live happily under it, so it is like to be of great

continuance; for they having rooted out of the minds of their people

all the seeds, both of ambition and faction, there is no danger of any

commotions at home; which alone has been the ruin of many states that

seemed otherwise to be well secured; but as long as they live in peace

at home, and are governed by such good laws, the envy of all their

neighbouring princes, who have often, though in vain, attempted their

ruin, will never be able to put their state into any commotion or

disorder.”

When Raphael had thus made an end of speaking, though many things

occurred to me, both concerning the manners and laws of that people,

that seemed very absurd, as well in their way of making war, as in

their notions of religion and divine matters—together with several

other particulars, but chiefly what seemed the foundation of all the

rest, their living in common, without the use of money, by which all

nobility, magnificence, splendour, and majesty, which, according to the

common opinion, are the true ornaments of a nation, would be quite

taken away—yet since I perceived that Raphael was weary, and was not

sure whether he could easily bear contradiction, remembering that he

had taken notice of some, who seemed to think they were bound in honour

to support the credit of their own wisdom, by finding out something to

censure in all other men’s inventions, besides their own, I only

commended their Constitution, and the account he had given of it in

general; and so, taking him by the hand, carried him to supper, and

told him I would find out some other time for examining this subject

more particularly, and for discoursing more copiously upon it. And,

indeed, I shall be glad to embrace an opportunity of doing it. In the

meanwhile, though it must be confessed that he is both a very learned

man and a person who has obtained a great knowledge of the world, I

cannot perfectly agree to everything he has related. However, there are

many things in the commonwealth of Utopia that I rather wish, than

hope, to see followed in our governments.

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