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
companion 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 commendations, unless I would, according to
the proverb, "Show the sun with a lantern." Those that were
appointed by the Prince to treat with us, met us at Bruges,
according to agreement; 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 concurred
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 agreement, 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 honour,
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 candour and affection, that there is
not, perhaps, above one or two anywhere to be found, that is 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,
talking with a stranger, who seemed past the flower of his age; his
face was tanned, he had a long beard, and his cloak was hanging
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 Hythloday, 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
Vesputius, 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 heavens 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 Castalians, 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 kindness 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
past 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 discourse. He told us
that when Vesputius had sailed away, he, and his companions that
stayed behind in New Castile, by degrees 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 danger, 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 waggons when they trained
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 governed 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
neighbours, but traded, both by sea and land, to very remote
countries. There they found the conveniencies of seeing many
countries on all hands, for no ship went any voyage into which he
and his companions were not very welcome. 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,
afterwards, they found ships made with round keels and canvas
sails, and in all respects like our ships, and the seamen
understood both astronomy and navigation. He got wonderfully into
their favour by showing them the use of the needle, of which till
then they were utterly ignorant. They sailed before with great
caution, and only in summer 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
observed among civilised 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 willingly; we made no
inquiries after monsters, than which nothing is more common; for
everywhere one may hear of ravenous dogs and wolves, and cruel
men-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
past, 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, is 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 incumbent 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 sakes 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 favour 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 council 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 learning, would render
you a very fit counsellor to any king whatsoever." "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 favour, whom by their fawning and flatteries they
endeavour to fix to their own interests; and, indeed, nature has so
made us, that we all love to be flattered and to 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 interests 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 England; 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
experience. When I was in England the King depended much on his
counsels, and the Government seemed to be chiefly supported 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 dreadful punishments enacted
against thieves, but it were much better 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 labour, on the labour 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 neighbourhood 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 particularly 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 honour than is to be found among tradesmen
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 experience shows that the mechanics in the towns or the
clowns in the country are not afraid of fighting with those idle
gentlemen, 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 effeminate 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 dobots! 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 agriculture, 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 into
solitudes; 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 possessions by
trick or by main force, or, being wearied out by ill usage, they
are forced to sell them; by which means those miserable people,
both men and women, married and unmarried, old and young, with
their poor 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 labour,
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 likely 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 labour 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 apparel,
and great cost in diet, and that not only in noblemen's families,
but even among tradesmen, among the farmers themselves, and among
all ranks of persons. You have also many infamous houses, and,
besides those that are known, the taverns and ale-houses are no
better; add to these dice, cards, tables, football, tennis, and
quoits, in which money runs fast away; and those that are initiated
into them must, in the conclusion, 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
monopolies; 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 vagabonds 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 punishment 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 be 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 those terrible laws that make the smallest offences
capital, nor of that opinion of the Stoics that makes all crimes
equal; as if there were no difference to be made between 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 men in making laws can
authorise man-slaughter 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 licence to cruelty than He did to the Jews. Upon
these reasons 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
consequence 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.
