“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.
“There are several religions in different parts of the island, and even within every town. Some people worship the sun, others the moon or one of the planets. Some worship men celebrated in earlier times for their virtue or glory. They worship them not merely as ordinary gods, but as the supreme god. Yet the larger and wiser part of the population worships none of these. Instead, they worship one eternal, invisible, infinite, and incomprehensible God. They believe this Being is far beyond our understanding. He fills the whole universe, not through his physical size, but through his power and influence. They call him the Father of All. They acknowledge that the beginning, growth, progress, changing fortunes, and end of all things come from him alone. They give divine honors to no one but him. Although they disagree about other things, they all agree on this point. They believe one Supreme Being created and governs the world. In their own language, they call him Mithras. Their disagreement is over which god this is. One person believes the god he worships is this Supreme Being, while another believes his own idol is that god. But they all agree on one principle. Whoever this Supreme Being is, he is that great divine essence whose glory and majesty all nations agree to honor.”
“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.
“Gradually, they abandon their various superstitions and turn to the one religion that is best and most widely accepted. There is no doubt that all the others would have vanished long ago, except for some unfortunate accidents. These happened to some of those who urged them to abandon their superstitions. People saw these accidents as punishments from heaven. They feared that the god whose worship they had nearly abandoned had intervened to punish those who defied his 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.
“They heard our account of Christ’s teachings, his way of life, and his miracles. We also told them about the remarkable courage of so many martyrs. Their willingly shed blood was the main reason their religion spread to so many nations. It is hard to imagine how eager they were to accept it. I will not judge whether this came from some secret inspiration from God. Perhaps it was because Christianity seemed to support the shared ownership of goods, a belief distinctive and dear to them. They saw that Christ and his followers lived by this rule. Some communities of the most sincere Christians still followed it. “Whatever their reason, many of them did embrace our religion and were baptized. But two of our group had died, and none of the four survivors was an ordained priest. We could therefore only baptize them. To our great regret, they could not receive the other sacraments, which only priests can administer. They have been taught about these sacraments and long for them intensely. They have debated at length whether choosing someone as a priest would qualify him to perform all a priest’s duties. Would this be possible even without authority from the Pope? They seemed determined to choose some people for this role, but had not done so when I left.”
“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.
“Those among them who have not accepted our religion do not scare anyone away from it. Nor do they mistreat anyone who converts to it. During my entire stay, only one man was punished in connection with religion. He had recently been baptized and, despite all our warnings, publicly debated the Christian faith with more zeal than judgment. He spoke so heatedly that he not only declared our worship better than theirs, but condemned all their rites as unholy. He denounced all who followed them as godless people who dishonored sacred things, doomed to burn forever. After he had preached this way repeatedly, he was arrested, tried, and sentenced to exile. This was not for insulting their religion, but for stirring the people to rebellion. One of their oldest laws states that no one should be punished for their religion. When Utopus first established their government, he learned that the original inhabitants had bitterly fought over religion before his arrival. These quarrels had divided them so deeply that he found it easy to conquer them. Instead of joining forces against him, each religious group fought on its own. After conquering them, he made a law allowing everyone to follow whatever religion they pleased. They could try to win others over through reasoned arguments, presented in a friendly and respectful way. But they must show no bitterness toward those with different beliefs. They could use persuasion alone, without insults or violence. Anyone who acted otherwise was to be sentenced to exile 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.
“Utopus made this law not only to preserve public peace, which suffered greatly from daily quarrels and bitter, unending disputes. He also believed that religion itself required it. He thought it wrong to decide anything hastily. He seemed unsure whether all these different religions might come from God. God might inspire people in different ways and be pleased with this variety. Utopus therefore thought it improper and foolish to frighten people into believing something they did not think true. Even if only one religion were true and all the others false, he believed truth’s own power would eventually shine through. It needed only the support of reasoned argument and a gentle, open-minded hearing. But religious debates carried on through violence and disorder could have the opposite effect. Since the most wicked people are always the most stubborn, superstition might choke even the best and holiest religion. It would be like grain choked by brambles and thorns. He therefore left people entirely free to believe whatever they found reason to believe. He made only one solemn, strict law limiting this freedom. It opposed beliefs he considered so degrading that they fell beneath the dignity of human nature. These were that our souls die with our bodies, or that chance governs the world without a wise, guiding Providence. All Utopians had previously believed that the good and the wicked would receive rewards and punishments after death. They now consider those who think otherwise scarcely worthy of being called human. Such people degrade the noble human soul, treating it as no better than an animal’s. The Utopians therefore consider them unfit for human society or citizenship in a well-ordered state. They believe anyone with these principles must disregard their laws and customs whenever he dares. They have no doubt about what follows. Someone who fears only the law, and expects nothing after death, will not hesitate to break his country’s laws. He will use deceit or force whenever doing so allows him to satisfy his desires. They never grant people with these beliefs honors or public office, or place them in any position of public trust. Instead, they despise them as people with low and selfish minds. Yet they do not punish them. They hold that no one can simply choose to believe whatever they please. Nor do they threaten people into hiding their thoughts. Thus, people are not tempted to lie or disguise their opinions, a kind of deceit the Utopians detest. They do, however, prevent them from arguing in defense of these beliefs, especially before the general public. But they allow and even encourage private discussion with their priests and other serious, respected men. They are confident that reason will cure them of these mad beliefs. Many Utopians go far in the opposite direction. Their view is considered neither harmful nor unreasonable, so it is not discouraged at all. They believe animals have immortal souls. These souls are far less noble than human souls and cannot enjoy such great happiness. Almost all Utopians firmly believe that good people will be infinitely happy in the next life. So, although they feel compassion for everyone who is sick, they mourn a death only when someone resists leaving life. They consider this a very bad sign. It seems to them that the soul knows its own guilt and has lost all hope. Afraid to leave the body, it senses some hidden warning of misery to come. They believe such a person cannot appear before God in a way that pleases him. When called, he does not go gladly, but hangs back unwillingly, as though being dragged. They are horrified when they see someone die this way. They carry the body out in silence and sorrow. They pray that God will show mercy toward the departed soul’s errors, then bury the body. But when someone dies cheerfully and full of hope, they do not mourn. They sing hymns as they carry out the body and earnestly entrust the soul to God. Their whole manner is solemn rather than sad. They burn the body and raise a pillar where the funeral fire stood, inscribed in honor of the dead. After the funeral, they discuss the person’s good life and worthy deeds. Above all, they speak most often and gladly about the person’s peace of mind at death. They believe honoring good people’s memory gives others the strongest encouragement to follow their example. They also consider it the most pleasing act of reverence they can offer the departed. They believe the dead remain among us and hear what we say about them. We cannot see them only because human sight is imperfect. They think departed souls could not be happy unless they were free to go wherever they wished. Nor can they imagine those souls being so ungrateful as not to wish to visit their friends. These are the friends with whom they shared the closest bonds of love and kindness on earth. They are also convinced that good people’s affection, and all their other good qualities, increase rather than diminish after death. They therefore conclude that the dead remain among the living and observe everything they say and do. This makes them more confident of success in all their affairs, since they trust in the dead’s protection. At the same time, believing their ancestors are present restrains them from pursuing evil plans.”
“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 scorn and laugh at reading omens and other empty, superstitious ways of predicting the future. Such practices are widely followed in other nations. But they deeply revere miracles that cannot be explained by any power of nature. They see these as acts of the Supreme Being and signs of his presence. They say many such miracles have occurred among them. At times of great danger, they have solemnly offered public prayers to God, fully confident he would hear them. They say these prayers have sometimes been answered miraculously.
“They think the contemplating God in His works, and the adoring Him for them, is a very acceptable piece of worship to Him.
“They believe that reflecting on God through his works and worshiping him for them greatly pleases 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.
“Many among them neglect learning for religious reasons and devote themselves to no kind of study. They allow themselves no free time, but work constantly. They believe that good deeds secure happiness after death. Some visit the sick. Others mend roads, clear ditches, repair bridges, or dig turf, gravel, or stone. Others cut down and split timber. They bring wood, grain, and other necessities into their towns on carts. They serve not only the public but also private individuals, doing even more for them than the slaves do. Whenever there is rough, hard, filthy work to do, they gladly volunteer to take it on. Others often shrink from such work because it is exhausting, disgusting, or seemingly impossible to finish. In this way, they greatly ease other people’s burdens while wearing themselves down, spending their whole lives in hard labor. Yet they do not take pride in this or damage other people’s reputations to improve their own. Far from being despised for taking on such lowly work, they are held in even greater respect throughout the 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.
“There are two kinds of these people. Some remain unmarried and chaste, and eat no meat. They turn away from all the pleasures of this life, which they consider harmful. They seek the blessedness they hope for in the next life, using even the hardest and most painful methods possible. The closer they come to it, the more cheerful and eager they become in pursuing it. The other kind are less willing to endure such hardship, so they prefer marriage to remaining single. They do not deny themselves its pleasures. They also believe that having children is a duty they owe to human nature and their country. They do not avoid any pleasure that does not interfere with work. They therefore eat meat all the more willingly because they find it makes them better able to work. The Utopians consider this group wiser, but regard the others as holier. They would indeed laugh at anyone who preferred remaining unmarried or living a hard-working life on grounds of reason alone. They would think marriage and an easy life the more reasonable choices. But they respect and admire those who make such choices for religious reasons. In nothing are they more cautious than in expressing firm judgments about any form of religion. The men who lead these strict lives are called Brutheskas in their own language. This corresponds to what 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.
“Their priests are men of outstanding devotion, and so there are few of them. Each town has only thirteen, one for each temple. When they go to war, seven priests accompany their forces. Seven others are chosen to take their places while they are away. The original priests resume their duties when they return. Those who served in their absence assist the high priest until deaths leave positions vacant. One priest is placed above all the others. Like the other magistrates, priests are elected by the people through secret ballots to prevent factions. Once chosen, they are consecrated by the body of priests. They are responsible for all sacred matters, the worship of God, and oversight of the people’s conduct. It is a disgrace for anyone to be summoned by a priest or spoken to privately by one. This always raises suspicions about that person. The priests’ duty is only to urge people toward good conduct and warn them against wrongdoing. The power to discipline and punish wrongdoers belongs entirely to the Prince and the other magistrates. The priests’ harshest measure is to exclude the thoroughly wicked from public worship. No punishment is more feared than this. It brings public disgrace and fills those excluded with private terrors, so deep is their reverence for their religion. Nor do their bodies escape suffering for long. They must quickly convince the priests that their repentance is sincere. Otherwise, the Senate arrests them and punishes them for their impiety. The priests are also responsible for educating the young. They care less about teaching academic subjects than about properly shaping children’s minds and conduct. They use every possible method to instill beliefs in children’s young, impressionable minds from a very early age. These beliefs are both good in themselves and useful to their country. When deeply impressed on children at that age, they stay with them throughout their lives. They also do much to preserve the peace of the state. Nothing threatens that peace more than the vices that grow from misguided beliefs. The priests’ wives are the most exceptional women in the whole country. Women themselves are sometimes made priests, though this is rare. Only elderly widows are chosen for that office.”
“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.
“No magistrate receives greater honor than the priests. If priests commit a crime, they are not called to account for it. Their punishment is left to God and their own consciences. The people believe it is unlawful to lay hands on anyone specially dedicated to God, however wicked he may be. They see no great harm in this, both because priests are so few and because they are chosen so carefully. A man is raised to this high position solely for his virtue and his reputation for exceptional goodness. It must therefore be very unusual for such a man to fall into corruption and vice. Still, this could happen, since human beings are changeable. Yet there are few priests, and their only authority comes from the respect people give them. Their immunity from punishment therefore cannot have any serious consequences for the public.
“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.
“They have very few priests. They fear that having more people share this honor might reduce the standing of an order they value so highly. They also think it difficult to find many people good enough to deserve such a high position. It demands more than ordinary virtue. Their priests are just as deeply respected among neighboring nations as they are at home. You can judge this from what I believe is the reason 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.
“When the Utopians go into battle, the priests who accompany them wear their sacred robes. They kneel near the battlefield during the fighting and raise their hands to heaven. They pray first for peace, then for victory for their own side. Above all, they pray that victory will come with little bloodshed on either side. When their side begins to win, they rush among their own soldiers to restrain their fury. Any enemies who see the priests or call out to them are spared. Those who get close enough to touch their robes have both their lives and their property protected. For this reason, all the surrounding nations hold these priests in great respect and treat them with reverence. Often, they have been as effective at protecting their own people from enemy fury as at saving enemies from theirs. Sometimes their armies have fallen into disorder and been forced to flee, while their enemies rushed forward to kill and plunder. The priests have stepped between the two sides, separated them, and stopped further bloodshed. Through their mediation, peace has then been reached on very reasonable terms. No surrounding nation is so fierce, cruel, or barbarous that it does not regard the priests as sacred and untouchable.
“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.
“The first and last days of each month and year are festivals. They measure their months by the moon’s cycle and their years by the sun’s cycle. In their language, the first days are called Cynemernes, and the last days are called Trapemernes. In our language, these names mean 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 have magnificent temples, beautifully built and extremely spacious. This space is all the more necessary because they have so few temples. The interiors are somewhat dark, not because of any architectural mistake, but by design. Their priests believe too much light scatters the thoughts, while softer light focuses the mind and deepens devotion. Although they follow many different religions, all agree on the central point, the worship of the Divine Essence. So nothing seen or heard in their temples conflicts with any of their beliefs. Each sect practices its own particular rites in private homes. Nothing in public worship contradicts the particular practices of these different sects. There are no images of God in their temples. This allows everyone to picture him according to their own religion. They call this one God by no name other than Mithras. This is their shared name for the Divine Essence, whatever else they believe it to be. All their prayers can be used by everyone without going against their own beliefs.
“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 gather in their temples on the evening of the festival that ends a season. Still fasting, they thank God for their success during the year or month that is ending. The next day begins the new season, and they gather early in their temples. They pray that all their affairs will go well during the period ahead. At the festival ending each period, wives and children kneel before their husbands or parents before going to the temple. They confess everything they have done wrong or failed to do in their duties, and ask forgiveness. This removes all minor resentments within families, allowing them to worship with pure and peaceful minds. They consider it deeply irreverent to begin worship with troubled thoughts or knowingly harbor hatred or anger toward anyone. They believe they would face severe punishment if they dared offer sacrifices without cleansing their hearts and settling all disagreements. In the temples, men and women are separated. The men go to the right, and the women to the left. All stand in front of the male or female head of their household. This allows those who govern them at home to observe their behavior in public. They also arrange the worshippers so that younger and older people sit beside one another. If all the younger people sat together, they might perhaps spend too much of the service fooling around. Instead, they should use that time to develop a reverent fear of the Supreme Being. This fear is the greatest, and almost the only, incentive 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.
“They do not sacrifice any living creature. They believe God, whose generosity gave these creatures life, cannot take pleasure in their deaths or the offering of their blood. They burn incense and other sweet-smelling substances, and light many wax candles during worship. They do not imagine these offerings can add anything to God’s nature, since even prayers cannot do that. Instead, they see this as a harmless and pure way to worship God. They believe these sweet scents and lights, together with other ceremonies, have a hidden and unexplained power to uplift people’s souls. This fills them with greater energy and joy during 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.
“All the people come to the temples in white clothes, but the priest wears robes of many colors. Both the craftsmanship and the colors are wonderful. The robes use no costly materials. They have neither embroidery nor precious stones. Instead, they are made from the feathers of several kinds of birds, arranged with great skill and care. Their true value far exceeds that of the most expensive materials. They say the arrangement of these feathers represents hidden mysteries, passed down secretly among their priests. The feathers serve as symbolic pictures, reminding them of the blessings they have received from God. They also remind them of their duties to him and to their neighbors. As soon as the priest appears in these robes, everyone falls face down on the ground. Their reverence and deep silence cannot fail to impress anyone watching, as though a god had appeared. After they have remained like this for some time, the priest gives a signal, and they all stand. They sing hymns in honor of God, accompanied throughout by musical instruments. These differ greatly in form from those used among us. Many sound much sweeter than ours, while others are also used among us. Yet in one respect their music far surpasses ours. All their music, both vocal and instrumental, is designed to imitate and express emotions. It is perfectly suited to every occasion. A hymn may be cheerful, or meant to calm or disturb the mind, or to express grief or remorse. Whatever its subject, the music reflects it, stirs and kindles the emotions, and carries those feelings deep into listeners’ hearts. After this, priests and people offer solemn prayers to God, using a fixed form of words. These prayers are written so that each person can apply the words spoken by everyone to their own circumstances. They acknowledge God as the creator and ruler of the world, and the source of all their blessings. They therefore offer him their thanks. In particular, they thank him for arranging their birth under the happiest government in the world. They also thank him for belonging to a religion they hope is the truest of all. But they ask him to show them if they are mistaken. If a better government exists, or a religion more pleasing to God, they beg him to reveal it. They promise to follow him wherever he leads them. But if their government is the best and their religion the truest, they ask him to strengthen their commitment. They also pray that he will bring the whole world to the same way of life and beliefs about him. Yet they allow that, in his unfathomable wisdom, he may take pleasure in a variety of religions. Then they pray that God will grant them an easy passage to him at last. They do not presume to tell him how soon or late this should happen. But they wish for a swift release, if they may wish this without challenging his supreme authority. They would rather be taken to him through even the most terrible death than remain long without seeing him. Even the most prosperous life would not make them prefer that delay. When the prayer ends, they all fall to the ground again. After a little while, they rise, go home to dinner, and spend the rest of the day in recreation 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.
“I have now described the organization of that commonwealth to you in as much detail as I could. I believe it is not only the best in the world, but the only one that truly deserves that name. Everywhere else, people talk about the common good, but each person seeks only his own wealth. There, where no one owns any property, everyone eagerly works for the public good. It is no wonder that people act so differently. In other commonwealths, everyone knows he must provide for himself or starve, however prosperous the commonwealth may be. So he sees that he must put his own interests before the public good. But in Utopia, everyone has a right to everything. They all know that, if the public storehouses stay full, no individual can lack anything. Nothing is distributed unequally among them, so no one is poor and no one is in need. Though no one owns anything, they are all rich. For what could make a man richer than a peaceful, cheerful life, free from worry? He neither fears poverty himself nor suffers his wife’s endless complaints. He does not fear that his children will suffer, or scheme to provide dowries for his daughters. Instead, he knows that he and his wife, his children and grandchildren, will all live happily and in plenty. This security extends to as many generations as he can imagine. Those who once worked but can no longer do so receive just as much care as working people receive elsewhere. I would gladly hear anyone compare their justice with that of all other nations. May I perish if I can see anything resembling justice or fairness in those other nations. What justice is there in the following situation? A nobleman, goldsmith, banker, or someone else does nothing at all. At best, his work is of no use to the public. Yet he lives in great luxury and splendor on wealth so wrongly gained. Meanwhile, an ordinary laborer, cart driver, smith, or plowman works harder even than the animals themselves. His work is so necessary that no commonwealth could survive a year without it. Yet he earns so little and lives so miserably that the animals are much better off than he is. The animals do not work as constantly. They eat almost as well, enjoy their food more, and have no worries about the future. These men, meanwhile, are worn down by work that brings them no lasting reward. They are tormented by the fear of poverty in old age. Their daily earnings only cover their present needs and are spent as quickly as they come in. Nothing remains to save 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.
“Isn’t a government both unjust and ungrateful when it lavishes favors on so-called gentlemen, goldsmiths, and others like them? These people do no work, or make their living by flattery or by devising empty pleasures. Meanwhile, it neglects people of lower rank, such as farmworkers, coal miners, and blacksmiths, without whom it could not survive. Yet once the public has gained every benefit from their service, they are overwhelmed by old age, sickness, and poverty. All their hard work and the good they have done are forgotten. Their only reward is to be left to die in terrible misery. The rich often try to drive down workers’ wages, not only through fraud but through laws they get passed. Paying so little to people who have served the public so well is deeply unjust in itself. Yet the rich give these hardships the name and appearance of justice by getting laws passed to enforce 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:—
“Therefore I must say, as I hope for mercy, that I can see all other governments in only one way. Every government I see or know is a conspiracy of the rich. They pretend to serve the public, but pursue only their private interests. They devise every means and trick they can find to achieve two aims. First, they want to keep their ill-gotten wealth without risk. Then they want the poor to work for them for the lowest possible wages. They also want to oppress the poor as much as they please. If they can get these schemes approved under the appearance of public authority, they become laws. That authority is supposed to represent the whole people. Yet these wicked men remain far from enjoying the happiness of the Utopians. Their boundless greed has led them to divide among themselves what could have provided well for everyone else. In Utopia, both the use of money and the desire for it have disappeared. With them, much anxiety and many opportunities for wrongdoing have vanished. Who cannot see that all the following would disappear if the world no longer valued money? Fraud, theft, robbery, quarrels, riots, disputes, rebellions, murders, betrayals, and witchcraft. Harsh laws punish these things rather than prevent them. People’s fears, anxieties, worries, exhausting work, and sleepless nights would all vanish the moment money lost its value. Even poverty itself would disappear, though money seems most necessary for relieving it. But to understand this properly, consider one example:”
“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!
“Consider any year when the harvest was so poor that many thousands died of hunger. Suppose someone inspected the grain stores of all the rich men who had hoarded grain at the year’s end. They would find enough to have saved all those who died in misery. If that grain had been shared among them, none would have suffered the terrible effects of the shortage. It would be so easy to provide everyone with all the necessities of life. If only that blessed thing called money did not stand in the way! Supposedly invented to help people obtain those necessities, it is really the only thing preventing them from doing so!
“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.”
“I do not doubt that rich people understand this well. They know it brings greater happiness to lack nothing necessary than to have an abundance of luxuries. They know that escaping so much misery is better than possessing so much wealth. I believe everyone’s understanding of their own interests, together with the authority of Christ’s commands, would have persuaded them. Christ, being infinitely wise, knew what was best, and his goodness was just as great in revealing it to us. The whole world would have adopted the Utopians’ laws, if pride had not stood in the way. Pride is the plague of human nature and the source of so much misery. It measures happiness less by its own comforts than by the suffering of others. It would not be satisfied to be worshipped as a goddess if no miserable people remained for it to humiliate. Pride thinks its own happiness shines brighter when compared with other people’s misfortunes. It displays its wealth so that they feel their poverty more sharply. This is the serpent from hell that creeps into human hearts and takes too strong a hold to remove easily. So I am glad the Utopians have found this form of government. I wish the whole world could be wise enough to follow their example. They have established a system of government, and a foundation for it, that makes people happy and seems likely to endure. They have rooted out every seed of ambition and political division from their people’s minds. There is therefore no danger of unrest at home. Such unrest alone has ruined many states that otherwise seemed secure. But as long as they remain at peace at home and are governed by such good laws, they are safe. All their envious neighboring rulers will never be able to throw their state into unrest or disorder. Those rulers have often tried to destroy it, but always in vain.”
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.
When Raphael finished speaking, many things about these people’s customs and laws struck me as very absurd. These included their way of waging war, their religious beliefs, their views on divine matters, and several other details. Above all, I questioned what seemed to underlie everything else, their communal life without money. This would completely remove all nobility, magnificence, splendor, and majesty. These, according to common opinion, are a nation’s true ornaments. But I could see that Raphael was tired. I was also unsure how well he would take disagreement. I remembered his remarks about certain people who felt honor-bound to defend their reputation for wisdom. They did this by finding something to criticize in everyone else’s ideas, but never their own. So I simply praised their system of government and his account of it in general. Then I took him by the hand and led him to supper. I told him I would find another time to examine the subject more closely and discuss it more fully. Indeed, I would gladly welcome an opportunity to do so. Meanwhile, I must admit that he is both very learned and deeply knowledgeable about the world. Still, I cannot fully agree with everything he has described. Yet Utopia’s commonwealth has many features that I wish, rather than hope, to see adopted by our governments.