|
Prev
| Next
| Contents
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 mouths 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 seventies 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.
Prev
| Next
| Contents
|
