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 A most pleasant, fruitful, 
 and witty work, of the best state of a 
 public weal, and of the new isle 
 called 
 
 Utopia; 
 
 Written in Latin by the Right Worthy 
 and Famous SIR THOMAS MORE, 
 Knight, and translated into English by 
 
 RAPHE ROBINSON, A. D. 1551. 
 
 • A New Edition ; 
 
 <V^L^ With copious Notes, 
 and a 
 
 biographical anti %itttatp 
 3?nttotmctioit* 
 
 By the Rev. T. F. DIBDIN, F. S. A. 
 
 wu— ju^^.^^.^i^mmmi~i^^u*±?t 
 
 LONDON, 1808 : Printed by William Bulmer, at the Shak- 
 speare Press, for William Miller, Bookseller and Publisher, 
 and arc to be sold at his Shop, in Albemarle-Street. 
 

THE EPISTLE 
 
 READER 
 
 GENTLE READER, 
 
 1 here present unto thee a new edi- 
 tion of a celebrated work, which has 
 not had the good fortune to be so much 
 admired in our own, as in foreign coun- 
 tries. Whether this may have arisen 
 from the want of curiosity or discern- 
 ment in our ancestors, is a point too 
 delicate and weighty for my determina- 
 tion : certain it is, that almost all editors 
 
 /tW// 
 
 15) <* 
 /So 8 
 
 M559860 
 
IV THE EPISTLE 
 
 have complained of the backwardness 
 of our countrymen to notice and com- 
 mend the Utopia of Sir Thomas 
 More. 
 
 The text of the present edition is 
 taken from the first English one, which 
 was translated by Raphe Robinson, and 
 printed by Abraham Veale, in 1551 : 
 a work of such scarcity, as to have 
 escaped the notice of all Editors of 
 ancient English authors. Its intrinsic 
 value * has appeared to me to be equal 
 to its rarity. 
 
 * This first English edition is particularly analised 
 at page clix. &c. post. As specimens of the purity 
 of its style, the reader may, in limine, consult pp. 
 24, 5. of the Prologue, and pp. 46, 7 — 124, 5. of the 
 First Book only. 
 
 If I were to mention any contemporary work, 
 analogous to it in style, it would be Michael 
 Wood's translation of the famous Treatise (l De 
 
TO THE READER. T 
 
 The Notes, which accompany the 
 text, are executed on the plan of a 
 Variorum Edition ; and, without the af- 
 fectation of antiquarian research, they 
 are intended to throw some little light 
 on the Manners, Customs, and Senti- 
 ments of our ancestors in the sixteenth 
 century. 
 
 The " Supplemental Notes," while 
 they may be thought to exhibit amusing 
 specimens of the literature of the seven- 
 
 Vera Obediential by the Bishop of Winchester, 
 with Bonner's preface : printed at Roane, xxvi of 
 October mdliii. 8vo— a work sufficiently known to, 
 and coveted by, black-letter collectors ! It is indeed 
 singularly curious. The reader will compare the 
 following with the first half dozen lines of page 22 
 book i. (post.) 
 
 u But as touching this bishop's worthy praises, 
 there shall be nothing spoken of me at this time : 
 not only because they are infinite, but because they 
 
VI THE EPISTLE 
 
 teenth century, connect, in some degree, 
 the chain of research with the present 
 times.* Those Notes, which allude to 
 modern customs and opinions, may pro- 
 bably, at first sight, be considered super- 
 ficial; but it should be remembered 
 that, at a future period, (if the edition 
 be permitted to live) they may in turn 
 become interesting to the curious anti- 
 quary. 
 
 The " Biographical and Literary 
 Introduction," was intended to give 
 
 are far better known to all Christendom than be- 
 cometh me here to make rehearsal." — fol. i. rev. 
 
 * I have adopted both the ancient and the mo- 
 dern orthography, in the extracts from the authors 
 of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The 
 former, out of compliment to Dr. Johnson's remark 
 in Hamlet; (Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xviii. p. 284. 
 note 5.) the latter, from respect to the good sense 
 evinced by Mr. G. Ellis, as noticed at p. lxxv. post. 
 
TO THE READER. VII 
 
 an additional interest to the subsequent 
 pages ; so that in reading the most cele- 
 brated performance of Sir Thomas More, 
 a tolerably accurate idea might be 
 formed of the Family, the Life, and 
 the Works of its Author. In the pre- 
 sent age of elegant and curious dis- 
 quisition, the " Portraits of Sir 
 Thomas More," and the " Editions 
 of the Utopia," may not be thought 
 the least acceptable parts of this " Intro- 
 duction/' 
 
 In fine, (following the example of an- 
 cient Lyndsay, and the author of the 
 Complaynt of Scotland,) I entreat the 
 " Gude Redar to correct me familiarly, 
 and be cherite, and til interpreit my 
 intentione favourably e."* Or, in the 
 
 •Dr. Leyden's edition of the Complaynt of 
 Scotland, 1801. 4to. p. 23. Prel. Dissert, and p. 27 
 
VIII THE EPISTLE, &C. 
 
 language of another ancient wight, " the 
 good reader is to be praied, for his own 
 relief and the Author's, first to correct 
 the errors of the print, and then to read 
 and judge."* 
 
 And thus heartily wishing thee fare- 
 well, 
 
 I am 
 
 Thine 
 
 Kensington, June 21, 1808. T. F. D. 
 
 of the text. A work of equal interest and eru- 
 dition. The first 292 pages are devoted to a Pre- 
 liminary Dissertation ; the following 2^4 to a re- 
 print of the text. A useful Glossary of 80 pages 
 concludes the volume. 
 
 * See ** An Answere to a Supplicatorie Epistle 
 of G. T" Printed for Tobie Smith, London, 8vo. 
 Mo da.e. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 2frog?a9gxcal aim Siterarp* 
 
Vis scire in Uteris, quis, et quid esset 
 Thomas Me Morus deem suorum ? 
 Orator fait elegans, disertus. 
 Festivusfuit et Poeta suavis. 
 Non Grtecum secus ac Latina calhns. 
 Nee collet modo ; sed tuetur ilia 
 Unguarum hand secus Advocatus acer, 
 Quam legumfuerat Britannicarum. 
 Quantus Philosophus, docere possunt 
 Leges Utopia recens apertte. #c. fyc. 
 
 Stapleton, Vit. Mori. p. 365. 
 
At was my original intention to have prefixed to 
 this edition of the Utopia, Some account of the Life 
 of Sir Thomas More ; but recollecting how fre- 
 quently (and indeed recently) the subject had been 
 before the public, it appeared to be a more eligible 
 plan to reserve for the notes, subjoined to the text of 
 the Utopia, such anecdotes of our author's life as 
 might enliven, while they illustrated, the work. I 
 shall therefore beg the reader's attention to the fol- 
 lowing arrangement of my introductory materials : 
 
 I. The Family of Sir T. More. 
 
 II. The Biography of Sir T. More. 
 
 III. Account of his Works; with Specimens 
 of the same. 
 
 IV. Editions of the Utopia. 
 
I. THE FAMILY OF SIR T. MORE. 
 
 1. His Parents. 
 
 SlR THOMAS, on the authority of Stapleton,* 
 and his Great Grandson +, was the only son of Sir 
 John More, many years a puisne judge of the 
 court of King's Bench. 
 
 * Cap. i.p. 10. t Ch. i. 
 
yi Family of [His Parents. 
 
 The father is described by his son, as a man of the 
 most amiable temper and inoffensive manners; ac- 
 companied with unshaken integrity.* ** He bare 
 arms from his birth, having his coat quartered ; 
 which doth argue that he came to his inheritance by 
 descent : and therefore, by reason of king Henry's 
 seizure of all our evidences (says More's great-grand- 
 son,) we cannot certainly tell, who were Sir John's 
 ancestors,^ yet must they needs be gentlemen ; 
 
 * " Homo civilis, suavis, innocens, raitis, misericors, 
 jequus et integer, annis quidem gravis, sed corpore plus 
 quam pro netate vivido, postquam ed sibi productara vitam 
 vidit, ut filium videret Angliae Cancellarium, satis in terra 
 jam se moratum ratus, libens emigravit in coelum." Sir 
 Thomas's Epitaph on his father: among his Latin Works 
 cited by Stapleton, p. 10. 
 
 f I shall here take notice of a very curious and uncommon 
 book, in which there is an ancestry assigned to the 
 " Mores," wholly unknown to the biographers of Sir 
 Thomas. This book is in the possession of Mr. Todd ; 
 whose readiness to oblige his friends, is only equalled by his 
 ability to gratify them, in literary communications. The 
 title is asfollows : ''The English CatholikeChristian, or the 
 Saint's Utopia: by Thomas de Eschallers de la More, an 
 unprofitable Servant of Jesus Christ : of Graies-Inne, Bar- 
 rister, and Minister of the Gospel of Eternal Salvation. In 
 the year of Grace and Truth, l64Q, &c.&c." Published 
 in the same year, at London, in 4to. pp. 36. The title, as 
 well as the contents of the book, are evidently theproduc- 
 
His Parents.'] Sir T. More. vii 
 
 and, as I have heard, they either came out of the 
 
 tion of an enthusiast, or even madman. It is dedicated to 
 King Charles the First, and in the M Epistle Dedicatory," 
 p. 2. the author thus speaks of his family, "lama branch 
 sprouted from a root, that many ages hath grown, spread 
 and flourished, lived and revived in the light of the coun- 
 tenance, and sun-shine days of divers Kings of England, 
 your Royall Progenitors ; whose princely bounty and most 
 munificent constant favours unto mine ancestors, hath 
 been as a cloud of the latter rain ; videlicet, Sir Hugh de 
 Pounts, un chivaler, qui vint de Normandie aver, le Conque- 
 rour ; et transacto regimine Regis Haroldi Secundi ; Lau- 
 rentius de la More, qui erat in exercitu Willielmi Bastardi 
 Regis in Conquestu suo Regni Anglix, &c. et Dominus Gal- 
 fridus de Scalariis, Miles ; et Sir Thomas de Eschallers, et 
 Sir John de Chafers, Knights : (Scalarii isti sunt editi atavo 
 Gal/ridi Senioris Hardicino de Scalariis Domino totius 
 Baronia de Caxton in Comitate Cantabrigian tempore Wil- 
 lielmi Regis AngliaJ, and Sir Thomas de la More, Knight, 
 who was a courtier in the reigns of Edward the First, Ed- 
 ward the Second, and Edward the Third, and was a servant 
 (and wrote the life) of King Edward the Second. And 
 my grandfather, who was a servant to king Henry the 
 Eighth." 
 
 By this latter sentence, he must allude to Sir Thomas 
 More — which is a manifest absurdity. Sir Thomas died in 
 1535 ; his only son John, who was born when SirT. was a 
 young man, had five children — he married young, and died 
 young. The eldest of More's grandsons, Thomas, had thir- 
 
viii Family of [His Parents. 
 
 Mores of Ireland or they of Ireland came out of 
 
 us 
 
 »# 
 
 From the few anecdotes which have reached us of 
 Sir John, he appears to have possessed some por- 
 tion of that wit and humour which were so eminently 
 conspicuous in his son. There is nothing, however 
 extant of his sayings, but the one respecting the 
 choice of a wife : — ft Cambden reporteth of him for 
 proof of his pleasantness of wit, that he would com- 
 pare the multitude of women, which are to be chosen 
 for wives, unto a bag full of snakes, having amongst 
 thembut one eel. Now if a man should put his hand 
 into this bagg, he may chance to light on the eel, 
 but it is a hundred to one he shall be stung with a 
 snake !" This story is told by More's Great Grandson, 
 and Hoddesdon. 
 
 He died, according to Hoddesdon, in conse- 
 quence of a sickness " from a surfeit of grapes. In 
 his sickness, his son, whom he had now seen Lord 
 
 teen children, ofwhom the youngest, great-grandson to Sir 
 Thomas, wrote the valuable life of his great-grandfather. 
 Now, it would follow that the grandson Thomas, eldest son 
 of John, should be a contemporary with the author of this 
 Tract ; and yet we find that the great-grandson, the bio- 
 grapher, died in 1625, twenty-four years before the publish- 
 ing of this professed grandsons book ! The author of it, 
 therefore, was an impostor or madman. There is a copy of 
 this curious work in the British Museum. 
 * Great Grandson's Life, p. 3, 4. 
 
His Parents.'] Sir T. More. ix 
 
 Chancellor, (according to his duty) often came and 
 visited him; using many comfortable words unto 
 him, and, at his departure out of this world, with 
 tears taking him about the neck, most lovingly kissed 
 and embraced him, commending his soul into the 
 merciful hands of Almighty God, and so departed 
 from him !"* He was buried, at the advanced age 
 of ninety years, in St. Lawrence's Church, in the 
 Old Jewry. 
 
 There is a fine portrait of him published by Mr. 
 Chamberlayne, from the Holbein drawings ; which 
 was either a study for the one in the Family Picture 
 of the Mores, by the same artist, or was a copy 
 after it. 
 
 Sir John was thrice married ; his first wife, the 
 mother of Sir Thomas, was a Handcombe, of Holy- 
 well, in the county of Bedford. Dr. Stapleton, how- 
 ever, tells us that her name was unknown. + She 
 died during the infancy of her son. Of his second 
 wife, we are wholly uninformed* His third and last 
 was called Alice, one of theMore's of Surrey, and 
 great aunt to Sir William More, who was living in 
 the reign of James the First. She had for her join- 
 
 * Tho. Mori Vita et Exitus, or, the History of Sir 
 Thomas More, &c. by J. H. Gent. Lond. 8vo. lo"52. 
 
 p. 67. 
 
 f Great Grandson's Life of Sir Thomas, 8vo. edit. 
 
 1726, p. 4. 
 
 b 
 
x Family of [His Parents. 
 
 ture, Sir John's principal seat and lands at More 
 Place, or Gubbens, in the parish of North Mimes, in 
 Hertfordshire. She survived Sir Thomas about ten 
 years ; so that he received no benefit from her for- 
 tune. It was to the possessor of this family mansion 
 of the Mores, " Cresacre More," that Alsop dedi- 
 cated his two editions of the Utopia. 
 
 His mother, the night after her marriage, had the 
 following vision. ** She saw in her sleep, as it were 
 engraven on her wedding ring, the number and 
 favour of all the children she was to have; whereof, 
 the face of one was so dark and obscure, that she 
 could not well discern it ; but the face of another she 
 beheld shining most gloriously. Accordingly, it is 
 observed that, she had one miscarriage ; and, after 
 wards, the famous Sir Thomas. Again, soon after 
 his birth, his nurse riding with him through a water, 
 the horse happening to slip aside into a deep place — 
 she, in order to save the infant from drowning, in her 
 fright, threw it over the hedge into the next field : 
 when she came, after her own escape, to take him up, 
 she found the babe sweetly smiling upon her ; having 
 received no manner of hurt."* 
 
 * This anecdote is related by the authors of the old 
 Biogr. Britan. vol. v. 3157. note A — on the authority of 
 Stapleton (Vit. Mori. p. 10, 11.) ; who adds, " Fuerunt 
 h»c non obscura prsesagia in magnum aliquando et excel- 
 lentem virum, hunc puerum evasurum 
 
His Wives.'] Sir T. More. xi 
 
 2. His Wives. 
 
 " Sir Thomas having determined, by the advice 
 and direction of his ghostly father [Dean Colett], to 
 be a married man — there was at that time a pleasant 
 conceited gentleman of an ancient family in Essex, 
 one Mr. John Colte, of Newhall,* that invited him 
 to his house, being much delighted in his company; 
 and proffered unto him the choice of any of his 
 daughters, who were young gentlewomen of very 
 good carriage and complexions, and very religiously 
 inclined; whose honest and sweet conversation, 
 whose virtuous education enflamed Sir Thomas not 
 a little. And although his affection most served him 
 to the second, for that he thought her the fairest and 
 best favoured; yet when he thought with himself 
 that would be a grief and some blemish in the eldest, 
 to see her young sister preferred before her, he, of a 
 kind of compassion, settled his fancy upon the eldest 
 (Jane), and soon after married her, with all her 
 friends good liking."* 
 
 " More married," says Erasmus," a maiden young 
 lady of an excellent family, residing in the country 
 with her parents and relatives, with a mind somewhat 
 
 * Great Grandson's Life, 4to. edit. p. 4,6, 7. Roper's Life, 
 edit. Lewis, 1731. p. 28. 
 
xii Family of {His Wiva. 
 
 uncultivated, in order that he might the more readily 
 form it according to his own ideas of education. He 
 took care to have her instructed in learning, and in 
 all musical accomplishments."* 
 
 We are told by the Great-grandson, that Sir 
 Thomas soon " began to be clogged with wife and 
 family, for his wife brought unto him almost every 
 year a child." They lived together only six years ; 
 she dying soon after her delivery of the fourth 
 and last child, John. Her remaining children were 
 Margaret, Elizabeth, and Cicely. She appears to 
 have been a woman of pleasing manners and sweet 
 disposition, and to have secured and deserved the 
 affections of her husband. We hear of no weak 
 speeches, or disgusting anecdotes, relating to her; 
 and, although the biographers of More do not record 
 any expressed commendations of her by her husband, 
 (nor have I been able to discover any among Sir 
 Thomas's Works, or Epistles to Erasmus), yet there 
 
 * In Farrag. Epist. It seems to have been a settled 
 principle with More that the wife was to learn every thing 
 of her husband. — In his u Treatise upon the Passion," he 
 says, " St. Paul commandeth that a woman shall not take 
 upon her to teach her husband, but that her husband 
 should teach her : and that she should learn of him in 
 silentio — that is, in silence ; that is to wit, she should sit 
 and hear him, and hold herself her tofigue." — Works, 
 1.557. p. 1275. G. 
 
His Wives."] Sir T. More. xiii 
 
 is just reason to conclude that our authorlived happily 
 in his first married state, and that he deeply regretted 
 its transitoriness. There is no doubt but that the 
 Utopia was written during this congenial period 
 of the author's life.* 
 
 We are now to speak of More's Second Wife. In 
 his «f History of Richard the Third," Sir Thomas 
 tells us that " small pleasure taketh a man of all he 
 hath beside, if he be wived against his appetite."f 
 This was emphatically the case of our author in his 
 second marriage, which is thus related by his Great- 
 grandson. 
 
 " Within two or three years after the death of his 
 first wife, he married a widow, called Mrs. Alice 
 Middleton, by whom he had no children. This 
 he did not of any concupiscence, for he would often 
 affirm that chastity is more hardly kept in wedlock, 
 than in single life — but, because she might have care 
 of his children, that were very young, from whom 
 of necessity he must be very often absent. She was 
 of good years,J of no good favour nor complexion, 
 nor very rich : by disposition, very near and worldly. 
 I have heard it reported," continues our biographer, 
 " that he wooed her for a friend of his, not once 
 
 * See More's Letter to Peter Giles, p. 5. post. 
 + More's English Works, edit. 1556. p. 59- F. 
 I " He married," says Erasmus, " a widow, not for lust, 
 but to be a governess to his young family ; who, although 
 
xiv Family of [His Wives, 
 
 thinking to have her himself; but she wisely answer- 
 ing him that — \* he might speed the better if he 
 would speak in his own behalf," — telling his friend 
 what she had said unto him — with his good liking, 
 he married her : and did that, which otherwise, he 
 would perhaps never have thought to have done. And 
 indeed her favour,as I think, could not have bewitched 
 or scarce moved any man to love her ; but yet she 
 proved a kind and careful mother-in-law to hi3 
 children."* 
 
 Any heart, but More's, would have been broken 
 by this match ; for Mrs. Alice Middleton appears to 
 have been one of the most loquacious, ignorant, and 
 narrow-minded, of women. Like another Socrates, 
 More endeavoured to laugh away his conjugal mise- 
 ries ; always replying to the sarcastic remarks of his 
 wife, with complacency and poignant good humour. 
 The reader will probably be amused with an anec- 
 dote or two relating to this good lady. The first has 
 been noticed by Mr. Seward.* 
 
 Sir Thomas would say of her that " she was often 
 
 she were inclining to old age, and of a nature somewhat 
 harsh, and besides very worldly, he persuaded her to play 
 upon the lute, viol, and some other instruments, every day 
 performing thereon her task." Thus did our benevolent 
 author try his utmost to convert discord into harmony. 
 
 * Page 48, 49- 4to. edit, f Anecdotes, vol. i. 93. edit. 
 1804. 
 
His Wives.'] Sik T. More. xv 
 
 penny wise and pound foolish; saving a candle's 
 end, and spoiling a velvet gown." In his book 
 of " Comfort and Tribulation/' he calleth this wife 
 of his, " ajollie maister-woman." — Life of More, 
 4to. ed. p. 127. 
 
 When More had resigned the seals of the Chan- 
 cellor, • he went to Chelsea church, with my lady, 
 and his children and family: and after mass was 
 done, because it was a custom, that one of my 
 Lord's gentlemen should then go to my Lady's 
 pew, and tell her my Lord was gone before — then 
 did he himself come, and making unto her a cur- 
 tesy, with his cap in his hand, said — « May it 
 please your Ladyship to come forth — now my Lord 
 is gone /" Whereto, she imagining it to be but one 
 of his jests, as he used many unto her, he sadly 
 affirmed unto her that it was true — for he had re- 
 signed up his office, and the King had graciously 
 accepted it." 
 
 When she used to say afterwards " Tillie vallie, 
 tillie vallie, what will you do, Mr. More ? — will you 
 sit and make goslings in the ashes ? it is better to 
 rule than be ruled—" More then began to find fault 
 with her dressing — but none of his daughters ob- 
 serving it, Sir Thomas merrily said, " Do you not 
 perceive that your mother's nose is awry?" — at which 
 words she stepped away from him in a rage. All 
 whichhe did, to make her think the less of her decay 
 
xvi Family of [His Wives. 
 
 of honour, which else would have troubled her sore." 
 Ibid. 244. 5. 
 
 u When Sir Thomas had remained a good while 
 in the Tower, my Lady, his wife, obtained leave to 
 see him, that he might have more motives to break 
 his conscience. Who, at the first, coming to him 
 like a plain rude woman, and somewhat worldly too, 
 in this manner began bluntly to salute. " What 
 the good year, Mr. More, I marvel that you, who 
 have been hitherto always taken for a wise man, 
 will now so play the fool, as to lie here in this close 
 filthy prison, and be content to be shut up thus, 
 with mice and rats! when you might be abroad at 
 your liberty, with the favour and good will both of 
 the king and the counsel — if you would but do as 
 all the bishops and best learned of his realm have 
 done ! And seeing you have at Chelsea a right fair 
 house, your library, your books, your gallery, your 
 garden, your orchard, and all other necessaries so 
 handsome about you — where you might, in company 
 with me your wife, your children, and household, be 
 merry — I muse, what a God's name you mean 
 here still thus fondly to tarry !" After he had a good 
 while heard her, he said unto her, with a chearful 
 countenance — " I pray thee, good Mrs. Alice, tell 
 me one thing" — " What is that?" sayeth she, — " Is 
 not this house as near heaven as mine ownf She 
 answering after her custom, " Tillie vallie, tillie 
 
His Wives.] Sir T. Moee. xvii 
 
 vallie" — he replied, u How sayest thou, Mrs. Alice, 
 is it not so indeed ?" " Bone Deus, man, will this 
 gear never be left?" — "Well then, Mrs. Alice, if 
 it be so, I see no great cause why I should much 
 joy either of my fair house, or any thing belong- 
 ing thereunto ; when if I should be but seven years 
 buried under the ground, and rise and come thither 
 again, I should not fail to find some therein, that 
 would bid me get me out of doors, and tell me 
 plainly that it were none of mine ! What cause 
 have I then to like such a house, as would so soon 
 forget his master? Again tell me, Mrs. Alice, 
 how long do you think may we live and enjoy 
 it i" — " Some twenty years," said she. * Truly," 
 replied he, ** if you had said some thousand years, 
 it had been somewhat ! and yet he were a very bad 
 merchant that would put himself in danger to lose 
 eternity for a thousand years !" Ibid. p. 306. 
 
 She survived her husband ; but how long, is not 
 mentioned by More's biographers. On his death, 
 she was driven from her house at Chelsea, and is 
 said to have subsisted entirely upon an annuity of 
 twenty pounds per annum, granted her by king 
 Henry VIII. " A poor allowance," as the great 
 grandson well observes, " to maintain a Lord Chan- 
 cellor's lady !" 
 
xviii Family of [His Children. 
 
 3. His Children. 
 
 Sir Thomas More, as has been already observed, 
 had three daughters and one son ; the latter was the 
 youngest. It seems that his first wife wished very 
 much for a boy ; at last she brought him this Son, who 
 proved to be but of slender capacity — upon which Sir 
 Thomas is reported to have said to his wife, that" she 
 had prayed so long for a boy, that she had now one 
 who would be a boy as long as he lived!"* The edu- 
 cation of the son was not however neglected, and it 
 is reasonable to suppose that he made some progress, 
 as Erasmus styles him " a youth of great hopes." 
 He also dedicated to him his edition of Aristotle's 
 works, by which it would appear that young More 
 understood Greek as well as Latin. 
 
 " Grynaeus, although a heretic, (says the grandson 
 of John,) did dedicate Plato and other books in 
 Greek, unto my grandfather, John More, as to one 
 that was also very skilful in the tongue." The 
 dedication is fulsome enough. Grynaius tells him 
 that " the Muses are his sisters, and that a divine 
 heat of spirit, to the admiration and new example of 
 our age, hath driven him far into the seat of learn- 
 ing, &c."— See the Grandson's Translation, p. 182. 
 
 * Old Biogr. Britan. vol. v. p. 3168. 
 
His Children^] Sir T. Moke. xix 
 
 On the death of the father, the son was committed 
 to the Tower, and was condemned for refusing to 
 take the oath of supremacy, for which his parent 
 suffered ; " yet because" (says his grandson) " they 
 had sufficiently fleeced him before, and could now 
 get no more by his death, he got at last his pardon 
 and liberty, but lived not many years after."* He 
 married a Yorkshire heiress of the name of Cres- 
 acres, and had by her five children ; four of whom 
 died shortly after coming of age — the youngest 
 married, and had thirteen children, of which, again, 
 the youngest inherited the estates, and has be- 
 queathed to us his truly valuable life of his Great- 
 Grandfather, Sir Thomas. 
 
 Of the Daughters of More, the eldest, and most ac- 
 complished, was Margaret : a woman, indeed, of 
 such transcendant talents as to place her in the very 
 first rank of learned women of the age. She appears 
 to have been a perfect character, as far as human na- 
 ture may be said to approach perfection ; for the at- 
 tainments of her mind were rendered still more bril- 
 liant and attractive, by the virtues of her heart. Her 
 disposition was gentle and affectionate ; her senti- 
 ments were always expressed with diffidence ; and 
 her filial love and reverence towards the best of 
 parents, throws a never-fading lustre upon her 
 memory. 
 
 • p. 280,1. 8vo.edit 
 
xx Family of [His Children. 
 
 The same principles of filial duty which inclined 
 her, at all times, to learn and to practise her father's 
 precepts — the same intellectual energies which sti- 
 mulated her to become acquainted with the great 
 authors of antiquity — the same refined feelings 
 which taught her the importance of domestic duties 
 and domestic happiness — these, collectively, seem to 
 have animated her at the great and painful moment 
 of trial, when her father was led to execution — when 
 she, again and again, burst through the crowd, em- 
 braced his knees, implored his blessing, wept upon 
 his cheek, and bade him for ever farewell ! 
 
 But the reader shall judge for himself. "This 
 daughter,"* says her grandson, (the biographer of her 
 
 * Vide Great Grandson's Life of Sir Thomas More, 8vo. 
 edit. 1726. p. 139, &c. 
 
 Stapleton has devoted the eleventh chapter of his bio- 
 graphy to an account of the accomplishments of More's 
 daughter, Margaret ; inserting some of the original Latin 
 letters that passed between her and her father. " Haec Mar- 
 gareta, (says he) , liberorum natu maxima praeter omnes alias 
 Mori proles etstatura corporis, et forma, et voce, et ingenio, 
 et tota indole, proxime ad patrem accedebat. Composuit 
 Graece Latineque, solutaet pedestri oratione elegantissime. 
 Vidi ego duas ejus declamationes Latinas exercitii causa 
 scriptas, quae ut stilo quidem ornatae et facundae erant, 
 sic inventione non ita multum patri cedcbant." Speaking 
 of the first of the above letters, written by More to his 
 
His Children.] Sir T. More. xxi 
 
 father), " was likest her father as well in favour as 
 in wit, and proved a most rare woman for learning, 
 sanctity, and secrecy ; and therefore he trusted her 
 with all his secrets. She wrote Two Declamations in 
 English, which her father and she turned into Latin 
 so elegantly, as one could hardly judge which was the 
 best. She made also a treatise of the " Four Last 
 Things ," which her father sincerely protested that 
 it was better than his, and therefore, it may be, never 
 finished it. She corrected by her wit a corrupted 
 passage of St. Cyprian. To her, Erasmus wrote 
 an epistle, as to a woman not only famous for 
 manners and virtue, but most of all, for learning. 
 She made an oration to answer Quintilian, defend- 
 ing that rich man which he accuseth for having 
 poisoned a poor man's bees, with certain venemous 
 flowers in his garden — so eloquent and witty that it 
 may strive with his ! She translated Eusebius out of 
 Greek, but it was never printed ; because Christo- 
 pherson at that time had done it exactly before." 
 Cardinal Pole so much admired one of her letters, 
 
 daughter, Stapleton thus remarks — " Ex hac sane epistola 
 liquet Margaretam non vulgariter eruditam aut medio- 
 criter literatam fuisse ; sed ea scribendo elaborasse quas in 
 lucem eroitti et omnibus communicari merebantur : etsi 
 vel sexus pudor, vel animi modestia, vel ipsa rei vix cre- 
 denda novitas, (ut hie Morus insinuat,) ut id aliquando 
 fieret, non permiserit." — Vit. Thorn. Mori. p. 237. 240. 
 
xxii Family of [His Children. 
 
 that when he had read it, he would not believe it 
 could be any woman's. More thus alludes to it in 
 one of his letters to his daughter : — 
 
 u I thought with myself how true I found that now, which 
 once I remember I spoke unto you in jest, when I pitied 
 your hard hap, that men that read your writings would sus- 
 pect you to have had help of some other man therein, 
 which would derogate somewhat from the praises due to 
 your works ; seeing that you of all others deserve least to 
 have such a suspicion had of you, or that you never could 
 abide to be decked with the plumes of other birds. But 
 you, sweet Meg, are rather to be praised for this, that 
 seeing you cannot hope for condigne praise of your labours, 
 yet for all this you go forward with this your invincible 
 courage, to join with your virtue the knowledge of most 
 excellent sciences ; and contenting yourself with your own 
 pleasure in learning, you never hunt after vulgar praises, 
 nor receive them willingly, though they be offered you ; 
 and for your singular piety and love towards me, you 
 esteem me and your husband a sufficient and ample 
 theatre for you to content you with : who, in requital of 
 this your affection, beseech God and our Lady, with as 
 hearty prayers as possible we can pour out, to give you an 
 easy and happy childbirth, to increase your family with a 
 child most like yourself, except only in sex : yet if it be a 
 wench, that it may be such a one, as would in time recom- 
 pense by imitation of her mother's learning and virtues, 
 what by the condition of her sex may be wanting ; such a 
 wench I should prefer before three boys." 
 
His Children."] Sir T. More. xxiii 
 
 " But see I pray you, (continues her grandson,) 
 how a most learned Bishop in England was ravished 
 with her learning and wit, as it appeareth by this 
 letter, which her father wrote unto her to certify her 
 thereof. 
 
 " Thomas More sendeth hearty greeting to his 
 dearest daughter Margaret: 
 
 " I will let pass to tell you, my sweetest daughter, how 
 much your letter delighted me; you may imagine how 
 exceedingly it pleased your father, when you understand 
 what affection the reading of it raised in a stranger. It 
 happened with me this evening to sit with John, Lord 
 Bishop of Exeter, a learned man, and by all men's judg- 
 ment, a most sincere man : as we were talking together, 
 and I taking out of my pocket a paper, which was to the 
 purpose we were talking of, I pulled out, by chance, there- 
 with, your letter. The hand-writing pleasing him, he took 
 it from me and looked on it ; when he perceived it by the 
 salutation to be a woman's, he began more greedily to read 
 it, novelty inviting him thereunto : but when he had read 
 it, and understood that it was your writing — which he never 
 could have believed, if I had not seriously affirmed it — 
 such a letter — I will say no more — yet why should not 
 I report that which he said unto me ? so pure a stile, so 
 good latin, so eloquent, so full of sweet affections ! he was 
 marvelously ravished with it ! When he perceived that I 
 brought forth also an oration of yours, which he reading, 
 and also many of your verses, he was so moved with the 
 matter so unlooked for, that the very countenance and ges- 
 ture of the man, free from all flattery and deceit, bewrayed 
 
xxiv Family of [His Children. 
 
 what his mind was, more than his words could utter ; al- 
 though he uttered many to your great praise. And forth- 
 with, he drew out of his pocket a portegue, the which you 
 shall receive enclosed herein. I could not possibly shun the 
 taking of it, but he would needs send it unto you, as a sign of 
 his dear affection towards y ou,although by all means I endea- 
 voured to give him it again ; which was the cause I shewed 
 him none of your other sisters' works ; for I was afraid 
 least I should have been thought to have shewed them of 
 purpose, because he should bestow the like curtesy upon 
 them ; for it troubled me sore that I must needs take this 
 of him : but he is so worthy a man, as I have said, that it 
 is a happiness to please him thus. Write carefully unto him, 
 and as eloquently as you are able, to give him thanks there- 
 fore. Farewell; from the court this 11th of September, 
 even almost at midnight." 
 
 " Yet one other letter, (says the same authority,) I 
 will set down of Sir Thomas to this his daughter, 
 which is thus: 
 
 " Thomas More sendeth greeting to his dearest 
 daughter Margaret. 
 
 " There was no reason, my dearest daughter, why thou 
 shouldest have deferred thy writing unto me one day lon- 
 ger, for fear that thy letters being so barren, should not be 
 read of me without loathing. For though they had not 
 been most curious, yet in respect of thy sex, thou mightest 
 have been pardoned by any man; yea even a blemish 
 in the child's face, seeraeth often to a father beauti- 
 ful. But these your letters, Meg, were so eloquently 
 polished, that they had nothing in them, uot only why 
 
His Children,'] Sir T. More. xxv 
 
 they should fear the most indulgent affection of your 
 father More, but also they needed not to have re- 
 garded even Momus his censure, though never so testy. 
 I greatly thank Mr. Nicolas, our dear friend (a most expert 
 man in astronomy) and do congratulate your happiness, 
 whom it may fortune within the space of one month, with 
 a small labour of your own, to learn so many and such high 
 wonders of that mighty and eternal workman, which were 
 not found but in many ages, by watching in so many cold 
 nights under the open skies, with much labour and pains, 
 by such excellent and above all other men's understanding 
 wits. This which you write, pleaseth me exceedingly, 
 that you had determined with yourself to study philosophy 
 so diligently, that you will hereafter recompense by your 
 diligence, what your negligence hath heretofore lost you. 
 I love you for this, dear Meg, that whereas I never have 
 found you to be a loiterer (your learning, which is not or- 
 dinary, but in all kind of sciences most excellent, evidently 
 shewing how painfully you have proceeded therein), yet 
 such is your modesty, that you had rather still accuse 
 yourself of negligence, than vainly boast of diligence ; 
 except you mean by this your speech that you will be 
 hereafter so diligent, that your former endeavours, though 
 indeed they were great and praiseworthy, yet in respect of 
 your future diligence, may be called negligence. If it be 
 so that you mean, (as I do verily think you do,) I imagine 
 nothing can happen to me more fortunate; nothing to you, 
 my dearest daughter, more happy : for as I have earnestly 
 wished that you might spend the rest of your life in study- 
 ing physic, and holy scriptures, by the which there shall 
 d 
 
xxvi Family of [His Children. 
 
 never be helps wanting unto you, for the end of man's life; 
 which is, to endeavour that a sound mind be in a healthful 
 body, of which studies you have already laid some founda- 
 tions, and you shall never want matter to build thereupon. 
 So now I think that some of the first years of your youth 
 yet flourishing may be very well bestowed in human learn- 
 ing and the liberal arts, both because your age may best 
 struggle with those difficulties, and for that it is uncertain, 
 whether at any time else we shall have the commodity of so 
 careful, so loving, and so learned a master : to let pass 
 that, by this kind of learning, our judgments are either 
 gotten, or certainly much helped thereby. I could wish, 
 dear Meg, that I might talk with you a long time about 
 these matters, but behold they which bring in supper, in- 
 terrupt me and call me away. My supper cannot be so 
 sweet unto me, as this my speech with you is, if I were not 
 to respect others more than myself. Farewell, dearest 
 daughter, and commend me kindly to your husband, my 
 loving son; who maketh me rejoice for that he studieth the 
 same things you do. And whereas I am wont always to 
 counsel you to give place to your husband, now, on the 
 other side, I give you license to strive to master him in the 
 knowledge of the sphere. Farewell again and again. 
 Commend me to all your school-fellows, but to your mas- 
 ter especially.'' 
 
 We are told by this devout biographer of Sir 
 Thomas, that * On a time his daughter Margaret 
 fell sick of the sweating-sickness,* of which many 
 
 * This distemper first began in the year 1483, in Henry 
 
His Children.] Sir T. More. xxvii 
 
 died at that time ; who, lying in so great extremity 
 of the disease, that, by no inventions nor devises that 
 any cunning physician could use, at that time hav- 
 ing continually about her the most learned, wise, 
 and expert that could be gotten, she could by no 
 means be kept from sleep ; so that every one about 
 her had just cause to despair of her recovery, giving 
 her utterly over. Her father, as he that most loved 
 her, being in no small heaviness, at last sought for 
 remedy of this her desperate case from God. 
 Wherefore going, as his custom was, into his new 
 
 the Vllth's. army, upon its landing at Milford-haven, and 
 spread itself in London, from the 2 1st. of September to the 
 end of October. It returned five times, and always in 
 summer: first, in 1485 — then in 1506; aftewards in 1517; 
 when it was so violent, that the patient died in the space of 
 three hours. It appeared the fourth time in 1520, and 
 again in 1528, (which seems to have been the time when 
 More's daughter had it) when it proved mortal in the 
 space of six hours. The manner of its seizure was thus ; 
 first, it affected some particular part, attended with inward 
 heat and burning, unquenchable thirst, restlessness, sick- 
 ness at stomach and heart, (though seldom vomiting), 
 head-ach, delirium, then faintness and excessive drowsi- 
 ness. The pulse quick and vehement, and the breath short 
 and labouring. None recovered under twenty-four hours. 
 The only care was to carry on the sweat, which was neces- 
 sary for a long time : sleep to be avoided by all means." 
 Dr. Friend's History of Physic, vol. ii. 335. 
 
xxviii Family of [His Children. 
 
 building — there, in his chapel, upon his knees most 
 devoutly even with many tears besought Almighty 
 God, unto whom nothing was impossible, if it were 
 his blessed will, that at his mediation he would 
 vouchsafe graciously to grant this his humble peti- 
 tion." 
 
 The result of this supplication was, the suggestion 
 (on the part of More) of a simple but efficacious re- 
 medy, which had entirely escaped the physicians, 
 and which effected the cure of his daughter. 
 
 The reader, if he be not wearied with the forego- 
 ing extracts, has now only to contemplate this amiable 
 and exemplary character, in the last scene of her 
 beloved father's sufferings — and in this, it must be 
 confessed, that her behaviour bore every mark of the 
 severest mental distraction. She acted, indeed, a 
 conspicuous and trying part ; for, of all More's family, 
 she alone seems to have the most justly appreciated 
 the worth of her parent. 
 
 " When More had remained with great cheerfulness 
 about a month's space in the Tower, his daughter 
 Margaret, longing sore to see her father, made 
 earnest suit, and at last got leave to go to see him : 
 at whose coming, after they had said together the 
 Seven Psalms, and Litanies, (which he used always 
 to say with her, when she came thither, before 
 he would fall in talk of any worldly matters, to the 
 intent he might commend all his words to Almighty 
 God's honour and glory), amongst other speeches he 
 
His Children.'] Sir T. More. xxix 
 
 said thus unto her: " 1 believe, Meg, that they 
 who have put me here, think they have done me a 
 high displeasure ,• but I assure thee on my faith, 
 mine own good daughter, that if it had not been for 
 my wife, and you my children, whom I account the 
 chief part of my charge, I would not have failed 
 long ere this to have closed myself in as strait a 
 room as this, and straiter too; now since I am come 
 hither without mine own desert, I trust that God of 
 his goodness will discharge me of my care, and with 
 his gracious help supply the want of my presence 
 amongst you; and I find no cause, I thank God, to 
 reckon myself here in worse case than in mine own 
 house ; for methinks, God, by this imprisonment, 
 maketh me one of his wantons, and setteth me upon 
 his lap and dandleth me, even as he hath done all 
 his best friends, St. John Baptist, St. Peter, St. 
 Paul, and all his his holy apostles, martyrs, and his 
 most especial favourites, whose examples God make 
 me worthy to imitate !" 
 
 His daughter, without sufficiently considering how 
 conscientiously he had refused to take the oath of 
 supremacy, " forcibly urged him with many reasons 
 and motives to the taking of this oath, that they 
 might enjoy his presence at his house at Chelsea." 
 More answered all her arguments very methodically, 
 but remained immoveable. 
 
 " After all this, she sought to fright him with the 
 danger of death, which might perhaps move him to 
 
xxx Family of [His Children. 
 
 relent ;" but a mind like More's, which had uniformly 
 displayed a contempt of all worldly honours, was 
 not to be shaken by this natural, but unphilosophical, 
 appeal to his passions. 
 
 " At another time, when he had questioned his 
 daughter about her mother, her children, and the 
 state of his house in his absence, he asked her at last 
 — How Queen Anne * did f " In faith, father, said 
 she, never better :— there is nothing else in the court 
 but dancing and sporting." " Never better ?" (said 
 he), " alas Meg, alas! it pitieth me to remember 
 unto what misery, poor soul, she will shortly come. 
 These dances of hers will prove such dances, that 
 she will spurn our heads off like footballs; but it will 
 not be long ere her head will dance the like dance !" 
 The melancholy end of the Queen sufficiently proved 
 the truth of this prediction. 
 
 But the trying scene is yet to be described. 
 " When Sir Thomas was come now to the Tower- 
 wharf, his best beloved child, my aunt Roper, de- 
 sirous to see her father, whom she feared she should 
 never see in this world after, to have his last blessing, 
 gave there attendance to meet him ; who, as soon 
 as she had espied, after she had received upon her 
 knees his fatherly blessing, she ran hastily unto him ; 
 and without consideration or care of herself, passing 
 through the midst of the throng and guard of men, 
 who with bills and halberds compassed him round, 
 
 • Anne Bullen. 
 
His Children] Sir T. More. xxxi 
 
 there openly in the sight of them all, embraced him ; 
 took him about the neck and kissed him, not able to 
 say any word, but, Oh my Father, Oh my Father!" 
 
 " He, liking well her most natural and dear affec- 
 tion towards him, gave her his fatherly blessing; 
 telling her, that whatsoever he should suffer, though 
 he were innocent, yet it was not without the will of 
 God ; and that she knew well enough all the secrets 
 of his heart, counselling her to accommodate her 
 will to God's blessed pleasure, and bade her be 
 patient for her loss." 
 
 " She was no sooner parted from him, and gone ten 
 steps, when she, not satisfied with the former fare- 
 well, like one who had forgot herself, ravished with 
 the entire love of so worthy a father, having neither 
 respect to herself, nor to the press of the people 
 about him, suddenly turned back, and ran hastily to 
 him, took him about the neck, and divers times 
 together kissed him; whereat he spoke not a 
 word, but carrying still his gravity, tears fell also 
 from his eyes ; yea, there were very few in all the 
 troop, who could refrain hereat from weeping; no, 
 not the guard themselves: yet at last, with a full 
 heavy heart, she was severed from him." 
 
 " Oh ! what a spectacle was this, to see a woman, 
 of nature shamefast, by education modest, to express 
 such excessive grief, as that love should make her 
 shake off all fear and shame ! which doleful sight, 
 piercing the hearts of all beholders, how do you 
 
xxxii Family of [His Children. 
 
 think it moved her father's ? Surely his affection 
 and forcible love would have daunted his courage, 
 if that a divine spirit of constancy had not inspired 
 hiui to behold this most generous woman, his most 
 worthy daughter, endowed with all good gifts of 
 nature, all sparks of piety, which are wont to be 
 most acceptable to a loving father, to press unto 
 him at such a time and place, where no man could 
 have access, hanging about his neck before he per- 
 ceived, holding so fast by him as she could scarce 
 be plucked off, not uttering any other words, but Oh 
 my Father ! What a sword was this to his heart ! and 
 at last, being drawn away by force, to run upon him 
 again without any regard either of the weapons 
 wherewith he was compassed, or of the modesty be- 
 coming her own sex. What comfort did he want ! 
 what courage did he then stand in need of! and yet 
 he resisted all this most courageously, remitting no- 
 thing of his steady gravity, speaking only that which 
 we have recited before, and at last desiring her to 
 pray for her father's soul."* 
 
 * The above circumstances are all described, or alluded to, 
 by Stapleton, Roper, and Hoddesdon. Stapleton's account 
 is beautiful and touching — the Latin narrative has here 
 a decided superiority over the English. See also a 
 Latin epistle, by Nucerinus, " De Moite D. Thomas 
 Mori et Episcopi Roffensis," subjoined to the Basil edition 
 of More's Utopia, 1563. p. 518. 
 
His Children.] of Sir T. More. xxxiii 
 
 I shall close my account of this amiable and ex- 
 cellent woman, with the last letter written to her by 
 her father, the day before he suffered ; and which 
 few will read unmoved. It was first, I believe, 
 printed in the folio edition of More's English Works 
 by Tottel, 1557 ; and may be found at the end of 
 Mr. Lewis's edition of Rooper's Life of Sir Thomas. 
 
 " Written with a coal to his daughter, Mistress 
 Rooper, and sent to her; which was the last thing that 
 ever he wrote. 
 
 " Our Lord bless you, good daughter ! and your good 
 husband, and your little boy, and all yours, and all my 
 children, and all my god-children, and all my friends ! 
 Recommend me, when ye may, to my good daughter 
 Cicely, whom I beseech our Lord to comfort. And I 
 send her my blessing, and to all her children, and pray her 
 to pray for me. I send her an handkerchief: and God 
 comfort my good son her husband ! 
 
 " My good daughter Daunce hath the picture in parch- 
 ment that you delivered me from my Lady Conyers ; her 
 name is on the back of it. Shew her that I heartily pray 
 her, that you may send it in my name to her again, for 
 a token from me, to pray for me. I like special well 
 Dorothy Coly ; I pray you be good unto her. I would wit 
 whether this be she that you wrote me of: if not, yet I 
 pray you be good to the other, as you may in her afflic- 
 tion, and to my good daughter Joan * Aleyn too. Give 
 her, I pray you, some kind answer, for she sued hither to 
 
 * One of the servants of his daughter Margaret. 
 e 
 
xxxiv Family of [His Children. 
 
 me this day to pray you, be good to her. I cumber you, 
 good Margaret, much ; butl would be sorry it should be 
 any longer than to-morrow — for it is Saint Thomas even, 
 and the Utas of Saint Peter ; and, therefore, to-morrow 
 long I to go to God : it were a day very meet and conve- 
 nient for me ! 
 
 " I never liked your manner better, than when you 
 kissed • me last : for I love, when daughterly love and dear 
 charity hath no leisure to look to worldly courtesy. Fare- 
 well, my dear child, and pray for me! and I shall for you, 
 and all your dear friends, that we may merrily meet in 
 heayen! I thank you for your great cost. I send 
 now my good daughter Clement her algorisme stone; 
 and I send her, and my god-son, and all hers, God's bles- 
 sing and mine ! I pray you, at time convenient, recommend 
 me to my good son, John More. I liked well his natural 
 fashion. -f Our Lord bless him, and his good wife, my 
 loving daughter, to whom I pray him to be good, as he 
 hath great cause ; and that if the land of mine come to his 
 hand, he break not my will concerning his sister Daunce. 
 And our Lord bless Thomas, and Austen, and all that they 
 shall have." 
 
 Margaret was married, during her father's lifetime, 
 to William Rooper,J Esq. Prothonotary of the 
 
 * Alluding to her conduct on Tower- hill, noticed at p. xxx. 
 
 f His begging the blessing of Sir Thomas, when the latter 
 returned from receiving judgment. 
 
 X Rooper lived thirty-three years a widower, after the 
 decease of his wife, and died in January, 1 557, in his 
 eighty-second year. He was buried in the same grave 
 
His Children.] Sir T. More. xxxv 
 
 court of King's-bench, and survived her father nine 
 years; on her death in 1544, she left five children. 
 
 with his beloved Margaret. As his epitaph, which was 
 legible in Soraner's time, and which has been given us by 
 this antiquary, is now totally illegible, perhaps it may 
 be acceptable to the reader — and not the less so, if given 
 in its ancient Gothic character, as printed by Mr. Lewis ; 
 
 l£ic jacet benerabili0 t&it Gulielmus Roper 
 armiger, filiu0 et fy&eteis quondam Johan- 
 nis Roperi armigeri, et Margaieta ujcot eju0» 
 Hem Gulielmi, filia quondam Thomae Mori 
 militie summi olim Angliae CaneeHarij, <$re* 
 tie, Hatini0que Uteri© Bocti00imi, qui quiUem 
 Gulielmus patri 0uo in officio protfconotari* 
 atu0 suprrmi Curie Banci Eegii cucceocit, 
 in quo cum annt0 54 fitoeliter mini0tra00* 
 et itiem officium filio cuo primogenito 
 Thomae reliquit. fuit in Gulielmus Homi 
 fori0que munificen©, miri0, mi0ericor0, incar» 
 ceratorum, oppte00orum, et pauperum 
 6aculu0» (Senuit eje Margareta ujcore 
 [quam unicam fwbuit] fitiO0 Tmo0 et 
 filiaa tree, ex it0 titiit in toita 0ua ncpotcs 
 et pronepote©, ujorem in tririli aetate ami* 
 0it, biliuatu0 ujcore ca0ti00ime toijeit anno© 
 33. tffanDem, completi0 in pace Uiebu0, Be* 
 ce00it in senectute bona ah omnibus He0iBe* 
 ratu0 tiie quarto men0t0 Jan. 9tono Cpri0ri 
 0albationi0 1557* aetatiatocro 0ue 82. 
 
xxxvi Family, &c. [His Children. 
 
 During her lifetime, she was desirous of procuring 
 the famous Roger Ascham to be their tutor, but it 
 seems that no persuasions could prevail upon him to 
 leave the University of Cambridge. She therefore 
 obtained the superintendance of Drs. Cole and 
 Christopherson, the latter afterwards Bishop of Chi- 
 chester — both of them '* very famous at that time for 
 their skill in the Greek language."* Her youngest 
 daughter, Mary, was twice married; the second time, 
 to Mr. James Basset : she is reported by Ascham 
 to have been " an ornament to her sex, and of Queen 
 Mary's court. — She was one of the Gentlewomen (so 
 were they then called) of that Queen's privy-cham- 
 ber, and translated into English part of her grand- 
 father's Exposition of the Passion of our Saviour, 
 wherein she exactly imitated Sir Thomas's style in 
 English."t 
 
 More's second daughter, Elizabeth, was mar- 
 ried in the lifetime of her father to John Dancy, 
 son and heir to Sir John Dancy. His third 
 daughter, Cecilia, was married to Giles Heron, 
 of Shacklewell, in Middlesex. 
 
 * Old Biogr. Britan. vol. v. 31 68. + Ibid. 
 
[ xxxvii ] 
 
 II. THE BIOGRAPHY OF SIR T. MORE, 
 
 Being an Account of the various Lives that have 
 been published of Him. 
 
 There are few celebrated characters of antiquity 
 of whom so many amusing and familiar anecdotes 
 are extant, as of Sir Thomas More ; and what 
 gives them an additional zest, is, the apparent fidelity 
 with which they are related. Plutarch enlivens the 
 pages of his biography, by the little anecdotes or 
 sayings which he introduces, connected with the 
 hero of his story. Thus, when we are told that 
 Alcibiades,* in his boyish years, on fighting with a 
 youth, and being accused of biting his opponent 
 like a woman, exclaimed, that he " bit like a lion" — 
 we have as strong an idea of the spirit and quick- 
 ness of this extraordinary character, as if we had 
 been amused with a formal account of feats of arms, 
 or of studied harangues. Also when we are told of 
 the brilliant remarks, and witty equivoques, of our 
 author, we imagine ourselves to be as thoroughly 
 conversant with his character, as if we had lived 
 among his contemporaries. 
 
 This species of biography is, of all others, if 
 truth be rigidly attended to, the most delightful 
 
 * " Aa'xmj u AXfci&ao^j xoSaffe^ at yvtoUKt? Ovx tyuyt t 
 
 Jttm, «m' us of *fo*1ef." — Plut. Vitce. edit. Bryan, vol. ii. 
 p. 7. 
 
xxxviii Biography of 
 
 and satisfactory. Like the master touches of an 
 artist, on the prominent points of a picture, these 
 anecdotes give a decision and effect, which elabo- 
 rate recitals are incapable of producing. They re- 
 mind us of the spirit of Reynolds contrasted with the 
 tame finishing of Hudson ! Of all biographical pro- 
 ductions, what is comparable with Boswell's Life of 
 Johnson — which will be forgotten only with our 
 language ? Who can turn from the original thoughts, 
 the acute remarks, and the powerful declamation 
 with which this piece of biography abounds, to the 
 cold and ponderous pages of Fiddes, or the laboured 
 yet punctiliously accurate volumes of Hearne ? 
 
 True it is, some lovers of English biography may 
 still have much to lament in regard to the biography 
 of More. Those who would gladly have been better 
 acquainted with his political life — with his parlia- 
 mentary speeches — with his judicial decrees — with 
 his writings and history as an ambassador and cour- 
 tier — may regret that so little of these things has 
 been recorded, when, perhaps, so much might have 
 been successfully detailed. But, in the ravages 
 which time is hourly committing upon learning, and 
 while even now, with all the boasted privileges of the 
 press, and of a more advanced period of civilization, 
 we witness the indifference shewn to valuable works, 
 and the preservation of foolish and unprofitable 
 ones — it becomes us rather to receive what has been 
 handed down to us with gratitude, than to sigh 
 
Sir T. More. xxxix 
 
 with impatient ardour for more. If we consider 
 the peculiar character of the times when our author 
 wrote, [when religious fanaticism was pretty nearly 
 at its height,] it may surprise us that so much has 
 been preserved, rather than that so much should 
 have been lost. I will, however, no longer detain 
 the reader with the formality of these preliminary 
 remarks, but enter upon the subject matter of this 
 division of the " Introduction." 
 A. D. 1550. 
 
 " Historia aliquot nostri Seculi Martyrum, viz. 
 Thomje Mort, Joan. Fischeri, &c. 4to. 1550. 
 
 This work is noticed on the authority of Mr. 
 Lewis, (Preface to Rooper's Life of Sir T. M. 
 p. 1. note.) but I have never seen a copy of it. It 
 appears to be the Jirst printed piece of biography * of 
 our author. 
 
 A. D. 1588. 
 
 ** Tres Thomas, seu De S. Thomas Apostoli rebus 
 gestis. De S. Thomae Archiepiscopo Cantuarensi, 
 et Martyre. D. Thom^ Mori, Angliae quondam 
 Cancellarii Vita, &c. Authore Thoma Staple- 
 ton o, Anglo. S. Theolog. Doctore. Duaci, Ex 
 Officina Joannis Bogardi, cio.io.lxxxviii. 8vo. 
 
 * The death of More was minutely related in a small 
 8vo. volume, which appeared the year after his execu- 
 tion, under the following title. " Expositio fidelis de 
 Morte Thomae Mori et aliorum insignium Virorum in 
 Anglia. — Antwerp. 1536. 8vo. See Bibl. Paris. No 573. 
 
xl Biography of 
 
 This is a very rare book, It was written by Dr. 
 Thomas Stapleton,* and is called by Granger, " the 
 most curious of his works." The title-page is suc- 
 ceeded by a dedication to J. Sarrazinus; on the 
 back of the last page of which, begins a short chap- 
 ter of Contents. Then follows the account of St. 
 Thomas the Apostle, and of Thomas a Becket, 
 Archbishop of Canterbury, comprising one hundred 
 and sixty-eight pages. More's Life comprehends 
 three hundred and seventy-five pages, separately 
 numbered, with a portrait prefixed ; at the back 
 of which is " Authoris Epigramma ad Effigiem." 
 A funeral Oration upon Arnoldus De Ganthois, 
 of twenty pages (unnumbered), concludes the volume. 
 Stapleton's life is, upon the whole, a valuable and 
 elegantly written composition. The principles of the 
 author, as a Catholic, must always be remembered 
 in the opinions and descriptions given of persons 
 and events. Wood is wrong in saying that it is 
 " mostly taken from that written by Rooper," as 
 there are many original passages in it ; and in those 
 
 * The Editor of that facetious and truly original book 
 of Travels, called " Corryat's Crudities," has contrived to 
 refer to Stapleton's work, in the following manner. 
 " D. Stapleton hath written a booke de Tribus Thomis. 
 This is a Tom [comparing the author of the Travels — 
 whose Christian name was Thomas — to an Irish harp,] 
 fit to be comprised in tribus Tomis." See the edit, of 
 1776. 8vo. vol. i. sign. [1. 4.]. 
 
Sir T. More. xli 
 
 common to both lives, the narrative of Stapleton is 
 more interesting and spirited: indeed this latter editor 
 is allowed by his Protestant opponents " to have 
 been the most acute and accurate of his party." See 
 an account of the Author in Wood's Athen. Oxon. 
 vol. i. col. 292, 3. — Granger's Hist. Eng. vol. i. 224. 
 This work was reprinted at Cologne in 1599, ac- 
 cording to Wood ; and again, at the same place, in 
 1612. 8vo. according to Lewis. It was also reprinted 
 in the Leipsic edition of More's Latin Works, 1689, 
 folio. 
 
 A. D. 1626. 
 "The Mirror of Virtue in worldly greatnes, 
 or the Life of Sir Thomas More, sometime Lo. of 
 England." Paris, 8vo. 1626. 
 
 This edition is noticed by Wood and Hearne, 
 as being printed in 1616; but Mr. Lewis, (Pre- 
 face to Rooper's Life, p. 24.) tells us that it 
 was printed in 1626, and that it is a transcript " of 
 a faulty MS. of Mr. Rooper's, or else is altered by 
 the editor, T. P." It is not a common book. 
 A. D. (circ. 1627.) 
 « D. O. M. S. The Life and Death of Sir 
 Thomas MoorE, Lord High Chancellour of Eng- 
 land. Written by M. T. M. and dedicated to the 
 Queen's most gracious Majestic" 4to. No date, nor 
 place subjoined; but it is supposed to have been 
 printed abroad. 
 This is the celebrated life of More, which was 
 f 
 
xlii Biography of 
 
 written by his Great Grandson, who died about the 
 year 1625.* It opens with the following Dedication. 
 
 " To the High and M ightie Princesse, our most 
 gratious Queene and Soveraigne Marie Hen- 
 ri ette, Queen of Great Britaine, France, and 
 Irland, Ladie of the lies of the British Ocean. 
 
 Most Gratious and Soveraigne Ladie, 
 " The authour of this Treatise, eldest Sonne by 
 descent, and heire by nature of the family of that 
 worthy Martyr, whose life is described in it; had he 
 lived himself to have set it forth to the view of Chris- 
 tian eies, would not have thought upon any other pa- 
 tron and protectourtodedicateitunto, thenyour most 
 excellent Majestic For he was most constantly af- 
 fected always to the French nation and crowne, next 
 after the dutifull obedience which he ought to his 
 owne natural soveraigne Lord and Soveraigne. 
 
 * In the reprint of this life, (vide sub. an. 1726), it is 
 said that the author of it " was a person of consideration 
 and character, the agent of the English clergy in Spain, 
 and at the court of Rome, and a zealous assertor of the 
 Pope's supremacy. And indeed he managed with such 
 application and integrity in the businessof his employment, 
 that upon his leaving the world, the English Roman 
 Catholic clergy erected a monument over his ashes at their 
 own expence, as the testimony of the respect they bore 
 him, and the sense they had of his services. He lies 
 buried in the church of St. Lewis at Rome." Pref. iv. 
 
Sir T. More. xliii 
 
 And ibis his affection did he manifest on all occa- 
 sions, but especiallie in the treatie of the happy mar- 
 riage of your highnes, with the King our soveraigne 
 Lord and Maister, assembling at his own costes and 
 charges with unwearied industry, all the English 
 persons of note and esteeme, that then were in and 
 about Rome, and with them all, [as the mouth of 
 them all] supplicating to his Holines for the dispatch 
 of this most hope-full and happie contract, yeelding 
 such reasons for the effecting thereof, as highlie 
 pleased the chief Pastour of the Churche under 
 Christ our Saviour. The same affection did he tes- 
 tifie sufficientlie in the last period of his life, leaving 
 his bodie to be buried in the French church, where 
 with great content of the French Nobilitie it lieth 
 interred, &c." [This is the whole of the Dedica- 
 tion which is interesting, as relating to the author; 
 it continues for three pages more.] 
 
 " The Preface to the Reader," which gives an in- 
 teresting account of the author and of the work, 
 follows the Dedication. The first page of the pre- 
 face is numbered 1, and the numbering continues 
 regularly from thence to the end of the volume, 
 which, exclusively of the Dedication, comprehends 
 four hundred and thirty-two pages. The " twelfth 
 Chapter," relating to the Life of Sir Thomas, ends 
 at p. 3^2. the remainder of the work is devoted to 
 an account " Of Sir Thomas More's Bookes." - 
 
xliv Biography of 
 
 We are told by the Editor of its re-publication, 
 [see A. D. 1726. J that "'twas so greedily sought after 
 upon its first publication, that in Mr. Wood's time, 
 t'was scarce to be had ; and it appears from the few 
 sheets of Sir Thomas More's life, which Dr. Fiddes 
 has left behind him, that, notwithstanding all his 
 enquiries after proper materials for the compiling of 
 his history, he had never seen it." Of its scarcity 
 and intrinsic merit there can be but one opinion. 
 It is, in every respect, the most valuable piece of 
 biography extant of More. A copy of it occurs in 
 the Bibl. Harl. vol. iv. No. 9089. with MS. notes. 
 I have been favoured with the loan of one, to 
 make these observations, from the curious collection 
 of Mr. Stace, the bookseller; who was fortunate 
 enough to obtain two copies in very fine condition. 
 A. D. J 652. 1662. 
 
 " Tho. Mori Vita et Exitus : or The History of 
 Sir Thomas More, sometime Lord High Chan- 
 cellor of England. Collected out of several Authors, 
 By J. H. [John Hoddesdon,] Gent. London, Printed 
 by E. Cotes, for George Eversden, at the Golden 
 Ball, in Aldersgate street, 1652. 8vo. 1662. 12mo. 
 
 Anthony Wood and Mr. Lewis notice only the 
 second edition of this work : the first is rather a rare 
 book. A copy of each (the first with a portrait pre- 
 fixed, unknown to Granger, and formerly belonging 
 to Mr. Thomas Baker) is in my possession. It 
 
Sir T. More. xlv 
 
 opens with the following quaintly written dedi- 
 cation. 
 " To my worthily most honoured Kinsman, C. 
 
 HODDESDON, Esq. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 " Besides the Obligation I have to you by Nature, 
 your Goodnesse hath given you the greatest interest 
 that may be in my time and Studies; of which, if I 
 have made any improvement, it is purely the Product 
 fy Influence of* your Favour : The sense hereof hath 
 made me prefix your name to thisendevor of mine, upon 
 no other designe then to make a publique profession 
 that myself fy studies hold of you as of the chief Lord. 
 And if the pettiness of what I tender you here, be apt 
 to disable the justice of mine acknowledgements, you 
 can inform yourself that a Rose or a pound of 
 Cummin, hath often been all the Rent service that hath 
 been reserved upon estates of no inconsiderable value. 
 
 " That, that I here present you with, is the Life of 
 Sir Thomas More, one of the greatest ornaments of 
 the law, a man of those high employments, and so 
 great parts to goe through them, that he can be no 
 stranger to you, nor doubt of a kinde reception, espe- 
 cially seeing you are of as eminent courtesie as parts ; 
 I shall not venture to give any further Character of 
 him or commend him to you, but rather on the contrary 
 expect that he willpleadihe boldnesse of my Dedication, 
 and assure myself a favourable acceptance of my poor 
 labours from his vast worth. 
 
xlvi Biography of 
 
 • Sir, I have dealt with him as his nurse did * — 
 thrown him over the hedge into your Armes, lest his 
 memory should perish in the waters of Lethe : Or as 
 some common Souldier, who if he have but common 
 civilitie, finding some person of great quality lying 
 amongst the dead bodies and ready to become one of 
 them, will make a shift with a rude charity to lugger 
 him out of the field, and think him self sufficiently 
 rewarded with the honour of preserving his life : I, 
 [as I travelled over the Memorials of the ancient 
 Heroes] met with this worthy Knight breathing his 
 last in the field of honour, and an ordinary sense of 
 humanity ingaged me [though unworthy that office] 
 to rescue him from oblivion ; and handsomely I con- 
 fesse, but excusably, because I could no better ; my 
 weak capacity, in the very beginning of this enterprize, 
 being overwhelmed with the plenty and copiousnesse of 
 the subject. 
 
 *' I am confident, King Henry the Eight was not 
 so much his enemy, as to forbid posterity to think well 
 of him ; nor his sentence so severe, as to condemne his 
 Name, as well as his Body, to an execution ; his Name 
 no more deserved to die, then my pen does to preserve 
 it ; yet [which affords me some comfort'] what the Rea- 
 der wants in this Book, hee'l finde in his Life : with 
 which also (I hope) I have a good plea for theincon- 
 siderablenesse of any thing, which I can offer in returne 
 of all those obligations you have been pleased to lay 
 
 * See p. ix. before. 
 
Sir T. More. xlvii 
 
 upon me, which since I am never able to wipe off 
 by strict and punctuall satisfaction, I presume your 
 goodnesse will by a favorable acceptation hold me dis- 
 charg'd in Chancery : 
 
 lam Sir, 
 Your most affectionate Kinsman, 
 To serve $f honour you, 
 
 J. H. 
 
 The author of this publication is rightly sup- 
 posed by Wood to have taken his materials from 
 the foregoing works: indeed the title page ex- 
 presses this. It may be called rather an interest- 
 ing abridgment of the principal events of More's 
 life. The biography extends only to page 134: 
 the remaining sixteen pages are devoted to " A 
 View of Sir Thomas More's Wit and Wisdome," 
 and to " some few of his Apothegmes, collected out 
 of Dr. Stapleton." The first edition is a small 
 crown octavo volume, tolerably well printed ; the 
 second is a reprint of the first, in duodecimo, but 
 it is very indifferently executed. 
 A. D. 1716. 
 
 " Gulielmi Roperi Vita D. Thomae Mori, 
 Equitis Aurati, lingua Anglicana contexta. £ Co- 
 dice MS. penes Ed v. Bartonum e Collegio Orielensi, 
 Oxoniae. 8vo. Oxon. 17 16. Edited by Hearne. At 
 p. 59- there is " A letter of More to the University 
 of Oxford, against those scholastic disputants, who, 
 
xlviii Biography of 
 
 calling themselves Trojans, attacked all the liberal 
 arts, particularly Graecian ; contending they should 
 be held in disrespect, and reprobating those who cul- 
 tivated them." 
 
 This is an uncommon book. It was the first 
 publication of the interesting life of SirT. More, by 
 his son-in-law, Rooper ; and although in purity of 
 text, and importance of materials, it is somewhat 
 eclipsed by Mr. Lewis's edition of the same life, yet 
 it should be possessed by all those to whom the name 
 of More is dear. 
 
 A. D. 1726. 
 " The Life of Sir Thomas More, Knight, 
 Lord High Chancellour of England under K. Henry 
 the Eighth, and His Majesty's Embassadour to the 
 Courts of France and Germany. By his Great- 
 Grandson, Thomas More, Esq. London : printed 
 for James Woodman and David Lyon, in Russel 
 Street, Covent Garden, m.dccxxvi. 8vo 
 
 This is a very faithful reprint of the 4to edition of 
 1627, containing a new and judicious preface, some 
 short notes at the bottom of the page, and an index. 
 The editor, of whose name and character I am igno- 
 rant, thus observes of his work at p. xvii. of the pre- 
 face. " To make it as useful as might be, I have 
 been at the pains to compare it with the several lives 
 of Sir Thomas More, which have been given to 
 us by others, and have made references in the 
 margin to the several places where the like fact is 
 
Sir T. More. xlix 
 
 related. (The lives by Rooper and Stapleton are 
 then alluded to.) And I may safely affirm, there is 
 no circumstance of any moment taken notice of by 
 either of these, that is not to be met with in the 
 book before us. Mr. Hoddesdon's history is less to 
 be accounted of; 'tis a bare abstract taken from our 
 author, and the two writers we have mentioned 
 above. But that the reader might be deprived of no 
 satisfaction, it is also referred to among the rest." 
 
 This edition is very neatly and accurately printed, 
 and the notes give it a decided preference to the 4to. 
 edit, of 1627; however it may yield to it in rarity. 
 It was reviewed, and copious extracts were made 
 from it, in the New Memoirs of Literature, vol. iii. 
 p. 143. 161. 
 
 A. D. 1729. 1731. 1765. 
 
 « The Life and Death of Sir Thomas More, 
 Knight, Lord High-Chancellor of England, in the 
 reign of King Henry the VHIth. Written by 
 William Rooper, Esq. Prothonotary of the King's 
 Bench. To which are added, Some Original Letters 
 referred to in the Account of his Life." London, 8vo. 
 1729. 1731. With a Head. Dublin, 8vo. 1765. 
 
 I have placed these editions together, because the 
 two latter are reprints of the first. The Editor is 
 Mr. I. Lewis : sufficiently known by his Life of 
 Caxton, and other antiquarian publications. This 
 is the same piece of biography as was written 
 
 g 
 
1 Biography of 
 
 by More's son-in-law, Rooper, which Hearne has 
 published ; but it is in many respects superior to it. 
 " As to the present edition of this life of Sir 
 Thomas," (says Mr. Lewis at p. 22. of his Preface,) 
 " I assure the reader its an exact copy of a MS. of 
 it which I had from a neighbouring gentleman. It 
 is very fairly written in the hand in common use in 
 K. Henry VIII. and Q. Elizabeth's reign, about the 
 beginning of which it seems to have been com- 
 posed by Mr. Rooper, who was then about sixty 
 five years old. I have compared it," continues Mr. 
 Lewis, " with the late edition of his life by Mr. 
 Hearne from his Nonpareil MS,* and, excepting in 
 two places, where that MS. seems to claim the 
 preference, it's very plain, that this is much more 
 complete and perfect than the other, as representing 
 intelligibly what in Hearne's edition is downright 
 nonsense." 
 
 Mr. Lewis then gives a few specimens of the 
 variations of the MSS ; from which the superiority of 
 his own is incontestably proved. His edition also 
 has the advantage of " having such passages in the 
 margin taken from Erasmus, and Sir Thomas's own 
 
 * t* At the beginning of it, Hearne tells us, is this little 
 note — " in hoc signo vinces" — This, he critically observes, 
 is a sufficient proof that it was either copied from the ori- 
 ginal, or from some copy of great note — visum tetieatis ?" 
 concludes Mr. Lewis ! 
 
Sir T. More. li 
 
 works, [printed by Tottel,] as seemed to the Editor 
 to give light to the history." — The letters at the end 
 of the life, taken from the latter source, [now one 
 of the rarest books in English literature] give an 
 additional interest to the performance. 
 
 " Mr. Roper's life of his venerable father-in-law," 
 says Mr. Seward, " is one of the few pieces of 
 natural biography that we have in our language, and 
 must be perused with great pleasure by those who 
 love antient times, antient manners, and antient 
 virtues." See his Anecdotes, vol. i. 89- edit. 1804. 
 All these editions of Hooper's Life of More are rather 
 scarce . 
 
 A. D. 1758. 
 
 "Memoirs of the Life of Sir Thomas More, 
 Lord High Chancellor of England, in the reign 
 of Henry VIII. [Prefixed to an edition of the 
 Utopia.] By Fred. Warner, L.L.D." London, 
 
 8vo. M.DCC.LVIII, 
 
 This is, perhaps, the most common edition of 
 More's life. It is preceded by an elegantly 
 penned Dedication to Sir Robert Henley, Lord 
 Keeper of the Great Seal ; in which the merits of 
 our author and of his Utopia, are stated, upon the 
 whole, with candour and discernment. In the Life, 
 no references or notes are given ; and although the 
 narrative wants that naivete and simplicity which 
 characterise the preceding compositions, yet the 
 
Hi Biography of 
 
 principal features of oar author's character are de- 
 lineated with sufficient interest and exactness. 
 A. D. 1807. 
 
 " Lives of British Statesmen. By John 
 Macdiarmid, Esq. Author of An Inquiry into the 
 System of National Defence in Great Britain, and 
 of an Inquiry into the Principles of Subordination. 
 London: Printed for Longman, Hurst, Rees, and 
 Orme, 1807- 4to." 
 
 This elegant work comprehends the Lives of 
 More, Cecil, Wentworth, and Hyde ; the first one 
 hundred and twenty-one pages being devoted to the 
 former Statesman. Mr. Macdiarmid makes the life 
 of our author rather instrumental to political nar- 
 rative and opinions, than to private and domestic 
 anecdotes. Many beautiful speeches, and many in- 
 teresting traits of character are, however, recorded 
 by him,' and whatever is mentioned, is mentioned 
 with a purity and eloquence of diction of which we 
 have now few examples. The character of More 
 (for it is not my province to speak of the other pieces 
 of biography contained in the volume), is justly ap- 
 preciated and vigorously drawn. In the Appendix, 
 are some amusing particulars relating to our author ; 
 but in enumerating his English Works, Mr. M. does 
 not appear to have been aware that these are de- 
 scribed more copiously by Oldys in his British Libra- 
 rian, p. 194. No. IV, 
 
Sin T, More. liii 
 
 A.D. 1808. 
 
 * Memoirs of Sir Thomas More ; with a new 
 Translation of his Utopia, his King Richard III, and 
 his Latin Poems. By Arthur Cayley, the younger, 
 Esq. London, 1808.2 vols. 4to. Cadell and Davies. 
 
 The first volume of this recent publication is 
 appropriated to the Life of Sir Thomas More; the 
 second, to a new translation of the Utopia — which 
 will be noticed hereafter. The Author is known by 
 his Life of Sir Walter Raleigh ; which, as well as the 
 present work, is extremely creditable to his talents. 
 All the early poetry of More is judiciously interwoven 
 in the narrative, and the principal events of his 
 life are described from the best sources of informa- 
 tion. The Appendix contains the Latin letters and 
 Latin Poetry of More : but of his English works, 
 rather a scanty catalogue is given. Neither Mr. 
 Cayley, nor Mr. Macdiarmid, seem to have been 
 aware of Oldys's British Librarian. 
 
 In the preceding account of Sir T. More, the 
 reader will observe that I have confined myself only 
 to those Lives of him which have been separately 
 published ; and that I have purposely omitted the 
 mention of such as are incorporated in Dictionaries 
 and Encyclopaedias. 
 
 It may be worth while here to observe that Sir 
 Thomas More has formed the subject of a Tra- 
 gedy, written by the Author of the Village Curate, 
 
liv Biography of 
 
 the late Mr. Hurdis. Lond. 8vo. 1793. Second 
 edit. pp. 132. The following are the 
 
 Characters. 
 Henry VIII. 
 
 Sir John More, Father to Sir Thomas. 
 
 Tunstall, Bishop of Durham. 
 
 Duke of Norfolk. 
 
 Bonvise. 
 
 Sir Thomas More. 
 
 Roper, 
 
 Dancy. 
 
 Lady More. 
 Margaret. 
 Eliza. 
 Cecilia. 
 Anne Bullen. 
 
 The following may be considered a fair specimen 
 of the talents of the author. 
 
 Act V. Scene changes to a Room in the Tower. 
 
 Sir Thomas alone. 
 Such is ray home — a gloomy tenement, 
 And solitary as the peasant's hut 
 Upon the barren mountain. Not a soul 
 Deigns me a visit. All my company 
 Are toiling spiders, who consume the day 
 In spreading nets to catch the harmless fly, 
 An emblem of myself. For what am I 
 But a poor, helpless, weather-beaten insect, 
 
Sir T. More. lv 
 
 That sought for shelter in the lowly shed, 
 
 And found within the spider tyranny. 
 
 Sometimes a mouse attends me for my crumbs. 
 
 I bid him welcome, but the whisker'd fool 
 
 Is still suspicious that I mean him wrong. 
 
 How kind was nature, when she made the brute, 
 
 To make him cautious how he trusted man 1 
 
 For such a tyrant is he, that he whets 
 
 The murd'rous dagger often for himself, 
 
 And ever for his brother; sparing none, 
 
 His neighbour, or his kinsman, or his friend. 
 
 'Tis all his business to destroy himself, 
 
 And all his sport to trample on the brute. 
 
 Track him in all his ways, in war, in peace, 
 
 Seeking renown upon the battle's edge, 
 
 Amusement in the closet or the field, 
 
 His footsteps are all mark'd with savage bloodshed. 
 
 Philosophy and Faith have each their sword, 
 
 And murder, one for wisdom, one for truth. 
 
 The paths of glory are the paths of blood, 
 
 And what are heroes and aspiring kings 
 
 But butchers ! Has not ev'ry prince his knife, 
 
 His slaughter-house, and victim ? What am I 
 
 But a poor lamb selected from the flock, 
 
 To be the next that bleeds, where many a lamb, 
 
 As innocent and guiltless as myself, 
 
 Has bled before me ? On this floor perhaps 
 
 The persecuted Harry breath 'd his last 
 
 Under the sword of Gloster. Clarence here 
 
 Drank his last draught of Malmsey, and his son, 
 
 Poor hapless boy, pin'd infancy away ; 
 
Ivi Biography, &c. 
 
 All his acquaintance, sorrow and himself: 
 And all the world he knew, this little room. 
 Yes, here he sat, and long'd for liberty, 
 Which never found him : ending his sad youth 
 Under the tyrant's axe. And here perhaps 
 Assassination, at the dead of night,' 
 With silent footstep, and extended arm, 
 Feeling her way to the remember'd bed, 
 Found the two breathing piinces fast asleep, 
 And did her bloody work without remorse. 
 O horrible to think of! Such is man. 
 No beast, whose appetite is ever blood, 
 Wants mercy more. Shall I escape him ? No. 
 No Marg'ret, no my daughter, no Eliza, 
 No my good girl, Cecilia. I must die 
 And leave my widow and my house to mourn. 
 Sorrow will overtake you, grievous loss, 
 Plunder, and beggary. Would that my eyes 
 Might once more see you all before I go. 
 Ha ! what art thou ? Have I obtain'd my prayer ? 
 'Tis my dear Marg'ret. {Enter Margaret.) 
 
[ Ivii ] 
 III. THE WORKS OF SIR THOMAS MORE; 
 
 WITH SPECIMENS OF THE SAME. 
 
 Oldys, in his valuable, and formerly too much 
 neglected, " British Librarian," p. 194, has favoured 
 us with an accurate but compressed account of the 
 edition of More's English Works, which was care- 
 fully compiled by his nephew, Rastell, Serjeant at 
 Law, and printed by Tottel. The title of this 
 voluminous book,* is as follows : 
 
 V The Workes of Sir Thomas More, 
 Knyght, sometyme Lord Chancellour of 
 England ; written by him in the Englysh 
 tonge. Printed at London, at the costes of 
 John Cawod, John Waly, and Richarde 
 Tottel. Anno 1557." 
 The volume commences with the following 
 Dedication, by Rastell. 
 " To the moste hygh and vertuous Princesse Mart, by 
 the grace of GoD,quene of Englande, Spayne, Fraunce, 
 both Sicilies, Jerusalem, and Ireland, defender of the 
 
 * Containing 1458 double-columned and closely printed 
 black-letter pages. I am in possession of a fine and per- 
 fect copy of it, which was procured from the curious cata- 
 logue of books published at the close of last year by Mr. 
 Ford of Manchester. See No. 155. 
 h 
 
lviii Works of 
 
 fayth, Arche-duchesse of Austria, Duchesse of Bur- 
 gondy, Myllayne, and Brabant, Countesse of Haspurge, 
 Flaunders, and Tyroll, her highnesse most humble and 
 obedient subiect, Wylliam Rastell, serieant at lawe, 
 wisheth health, wealth, honour, and felicitie, worldely 
 and everlastyngly. 
 
 " When I considered with my selfe [moste gratious Sove- 
 raigne] what greate eloquence, excellent learninge, and 
 morall vertues, were and be conteyned in the workes and 
 bookes, that the wyse and godlie man, sir Thomas Moke 
 knighte,sometyme lorde Chancellour of Englande [my dere 
 Vncle] wrote in the Englysh tonge, so many and so well, 
 as no one Englishman [1 suppose] ever wrote the like, 
 whereby his workes be worthy to be hadde and redde of 
 everye Euglishe man, that is studious or desirous to know 
 and learne, not onelye the eloquence and propertie of the 
 English tonge, but also the trewe doctryne of Christes 
 catholike fayth, the confutacion of the detestable heresyes 
 or tbe godly morall vertues that apertaine to the framinge 
 and fourminge of mennes maners and consciences, to live 
 a vertuous and devout christen life, and when I further 
 considered, that those workes of his were not yet all im- 1 
 printed, and those that were imprinted were in severall 
 volumes and bokes, whereby it were likely, that aswell 
 those bokes of his that were already abrode in print, as 
 those that were j et unprinted, should in time percase perish 
 and utterly vanish away (to the great losse and detriment 
 of many) unlesse they were gathered together and printed 
 in one whole volume, for these causes (my most gracious 
 liege Lady) I dyd diligently collect and gather together 
 
Sir T. More. lix 
 
 as many of those his workes, bokes, letters, and other 
 writinges, printed and unprinted in the English tonge. as I 
 could come by, and the same [certain yeres in the evil 
 world past, keping in my handes, very surely and safely] 
 now lately have caused to be imprinted in this one volume, 
 to the intent, not onely that every man that will now in our 
 dayes, may have and take commoditie by them, but also 
 that they may be preserved for the profit likewise of our 
 posteritie. Which workes, whoso will take paines dili- 
 gently and advisedly to peruse and rede, shall thereby 
 shortly attain gret knowledge, aswel for the increasing of 
 of all kindes of godly vertues and holy livinge, as for the 
 confirming of his own faith, and eschuing and confuting of 
 all perverse opinions, false doctrine, and devillyshe heresies 
 if he be not utterly destitute of God's grace, and blended 
 both with obstinate and stubburne malice, and also with 
 proude and arrogant presumption. 
 
 " And this volume thus finished the last day of Aprill, 
 in this year of oure Lorde God, 1557, I your graces 
 humble, obediente, and faithfull subiect, do dedicate unto 
 your most excellent maieste, as to that person, to whom 
 specially of all worldelye creatures, I truste this boke shal 
 be moste acceptable, both for that (I thinke) that it 
 being red of many, as it is likely to be, shall much helpe 
 forwarde your Maiesties most godly purpose, in purging 
 this your realme of all wicked heresies (which are, thankes 
 be to almighty God, thorowe his great goodnes and your 
 Maiesties meanes, very much abated, and as I trust, if it 
 may please god to graunt your highues long to reigne over 
 ns, which I beseche him of his most mercifull goodnes to 
 do, in time shal be clearely extinct) and for that also that 
 
Ix WOBKS OF 
 
 syr Thomas More (the aucthor of these workes) whyle 
 he lyved, dyd beare towardes your highnesse a special! 
 zeale, an entire affection, and reverent devocion : and on 
 thother syde lykewyse your grace as it is well knowen) 
 had towardes him in his life time, a benevolent mynde, 
 and synguler favoure, not onelye for his great learnynge, 
 but also for his moch more vertue. And I am fully per- 
 swaded, that your highnes good affection towardes him, 
 is no whytmynysshed now after his death, but rather by 
 his worthy workes and godly ende more and more encreased, 
 who new (beynge with almyghtie God, and lyvynge with 
 hym) with muche greater zeale and devocion towardes 
 your maiestie, than he had whyle he lyved here in earth, 
 ceaseth not to praye to God for the kinges maiestie, for 
 your hyghnesse, your subiectes, your realmes, and domy- 
 nions, and for the common welth, and catholyke religion 
 of the same, and for all christen realmes also. 
 
 And this commodious and profytable boke thus beynge 
 dedicated unto your hyghnes, I your obedient subiect most 
 humblye praye and beseche your maiestie, to be the 
 patrone and defendour of the same, whereby I am well as- 
 sured, it shall muche the rather be ioyously embrased and 
 had in estymacion in all trew Englyshe heartes," 
 
 This Dedication, remarkable rather for the warmth 
 of its zeal, than for the truth of its predictions, is fol- 
 lowed by tc A Table of the workes and thinges con- 
 teynedinthe volume," comprising two pages; which, 
 again, is succeeded by " A Table of many Matters 
 or Index to the volume. Collected and gathered 
 
Poetry.'] Sir T. More. lxi 
 
 together by Thomas Paynell, priest ;" comprehend- 
 ing twelve pages (unnumbered). After a blank leaf, 
 we come to the 
 
 Poetry ; 
 
 Mr. Cayley, in his life of Sir Thomas More, has, 
 very judiciously, inserted the whole * of our Author's 
 Poetry. — Before the publication of this life, I had 
 
 * The first effusion of More's youthful muse was styled 
 "How a Sergeant would learnetoplaye the Frere;" "which," 
 (says Mr. Ellis), " may possibly have suggested to the 
 late Mr. Cowper the idea of his popular tale of " John 
 Gilpin." This, however, may reasonably be doubted ; for 
 Cowper never appears to have been a curious investigator 
 of our early English Literature, and the narrative of these 
 compositions is totally dissimilar. Whoever will consult Mr. 
 Hayley's Life of Cowper, vol. ii. p. 60. 8vo. edit, may be in- 
 formed of the origin of John Gilpin — which was written in 
 a gloomy state f of mind, from some mateiials casually sup- 
 
 t It has been a matter of wonder with the greater part 
 of Cowper's readers and critics, how it came to pass, 
 that, he produced his most facetious letters and poems 
 during a state of excessive mental depression ? The fol- 
 lowing may possibly be thought to account for it ; 
 
 " Why melancholy Men are witty ? 
 
 " Is it because as Trees, set thick, hinder each other's 
 growth, but transplanted singly thrive best — so scholars, 
 in the University or Court, either thrive not, or, in their 
 full seminaries, are not so much taken notice of — Whereas, 
 if a while melancholy and retired, they gather more vivacity 
 
Jxii Works op [Poetry. 
 
 adopted the same plan; but it is now rendered 
 
 plied the author by his friend Lady Austen. For More's 
 poem, see " History of the English Language," prefixed 
 to the quarto editions of Dr. Johnson's Dictionary. 
 
 As neither Rastell, Oldys, nor Ritson, have informed us 
 when, or by whom the " Sergeant and Frere" was first 
 printed, it may be necessary to observe that a copy of it, 
 (which is also mentioned in Laneham's Catalogue ofCapt. 
 
 and produce it with more confidence in all their witty and 
 well digested discourses ! 
 
 '* For if the melancholy be not mixt with too much 
 phlegm, but carries a temperate heat (as a dry light makes 
 a wise mind), it causes a terse and more serene under- 
 standing. Whereas, when it is adust and sweltered with 
 the continual excessive heat of discourse and company, (as 
 lime burns when water is cast upon it,) it rather inclines 
 to madness, than a serious constancy of well tempered wit. 
 Or rather is not the reserved person of the nature of the 
 melancholy elephant, whose brain being driest, so becomes 
 the wisest amongst all bruit beasts ?" 
 
 See an eccentric and rare little book, called" Paradoxi- 
 cal Assertions and Philosophical Problems, full of Delight 
 and Recreations for all Ladies and Youthful Fancies. By 
 R. H. 1659. 12mo. pt. ii. p. 35. 
 
 If this reasoning do not satisfy the reader, I must refer 
 him to the ingenious Robert Burton, who tells us that 
 melancholy people are " humorous beyond all measure — 
 extraordinary merry — -feigning many absurdities, vain, void 
 of reason — restless in their thoughts and actions, conti- 
 nually meditating — they feign a company of antick, fan- 
 tastical conceits, frivolous thoughts, &c. &c." — See his 
 Anatomy of Melancholy, edit. 16*76". p. 114. 
 
Poetry. - ] Sir T. More. lxiii 
 
 superfluous. As, however, More's poetry has not 
 found its way into the elegant volumes of Mr. G. 
 
 Coxe's collection,) occurs in Mr. Scott's (the bookseller) 
 Catalogue of 1804, No. 710. and that it was first " Era- 
 prynted at London by Julyan Notary, in Powly's Churche 
 Yarde." No date. See also Ritson's Bibliogr. Poet. 280.1. 
 The celebrated Poem or Ballad of " The Not-Brownc 
 Mayd," [the prototype of Prior's well known '* Henry and 
 Emma"] is supposed by Mr. Capell, in his " Prolusions," 
 8vo. 1760, to have been the model of More's " Serjeant 
 and Frere." The " Not-Brown Maid," was first printed 
 in Arnolde's Chronicle, A. D. 1508. 1521. — See Cens. 
 Literaria, vol. vii.p. 96*. Dr. Percy has reprinted it from a 
 collation of a copy of Arnolde, in the Public Library at 
 Cambridge. It begins thus — (which will remind the reader 
 of the structure of More's stanza — ) 
 
 Be it ryght, or wrong, 
 These men among 
 
 On women do complayne 
 Affyrmynge this, 
 How that it is 
 A labour spent in vayne, 
 
 To love them wele ; 
 For never a dele 
 
 They love a man agayne : 
 For late a man 
 Do what he can 
 
 Theyr favour to attayne, 
 
lxiv Works of [Poetry. 
 
 Ellis, and as the reader may wish to peruse some 
 specimens of it in the present work, I shall lay before 
 
 Yet, yf a newe 
 Do them persue, 
 
 Theyr first true lover than 
 Laboureth for nought ; 
 For from her thought 
 
 He is a banyshed man. 
 
 Reliques of A. E. Poetry, vcl.ii. p. 29. 
 
 Mr. Capell thinks this ballad cannot be older than the 
 year 1500, because in this, and in More's, " there appears 
 a sameness of rythmus, and orthography, and a very near 
 affinity of words and phrases." " But this reasoning," 
 observes Dr. Percy, " is not conclusive; for if Sir Thomas 
 More made this ballad his model, as is very likely, that will 
 account for the sameness of measure, and in some respect 
 for that of words and phrases, even though this had been 
 written long before: and, as for the orthography, it is 
 well known that the old printers reduced that of most 
 books to the standard of their own times." Ibid. vol. ii. 
 27, 8, 9- 
 
 It should be observed that in the preceding extract from 
 Dr. Percy's reprint, the first and second, and fourth and 
 fifth verses, correspond with his first and third: agreeably 
 to the regulation of the stanza in the black letter editions 
 of More's Ballad; which Dr. Percy does not appear to 
 have consulted. It will be seen from Evans's Collection of 
 Old Ballads, that many of the Songs in the sixteenth 
 century were written in the rythm of the present one of 
 More. 
 
Poetry.'] Sir T. More. Jxy 
 
 him the following ; which have been omitted by Dr. 
 Johnson. 
 
 1. " Mayster Thomas More, in his youth de- 
 vysed in hys fathers house in London, a goodly 
 hanging of fyne paynted clothe, with nyne pageaun- 
 tes, and verses over of every of those pageauntes ; 
 which verses expressed and declared what the Ymages 
 in those pageauntes represented : and also in those 
 pageauntes were paynted the thynges that the verses 
 over them dyd (in effecte) declare — which verses 
 here followe. 
 
 "In ihejirst pageaunte was painted a boy playing 
 at the top and squyrge : and over this pageaunte 
 was writen as foloweth : 
 
 Chyldhod, 
 I ana called Chyldhod, in play is all ray raynde, 
 
 To caste a coyte, a cokstele, and a ball. 
 
 A toppe can I set, and dryve it in his kynde. 
 
 But would to God these hateful bookes all, 
 
 Were in a fyre brent to pouder small ! 
 
 Than myght I lede my lyfe alwayes in play : 
 
 Whiche life god sonde me to myne endyng day. 
 
 "In the second pageaunte was paynted a goodly 
 freshe yonge man, rydyng uppon a goodly horse, 
 havynge an hawke on his fyste, and a brase of 
 gray howndes folowyng him. And under the horse 
 fete, was paynted the same boy that in the fyrst 
 pageaunte was playinge at the top and squyrge, 
 i 
 
lxvi Works of [Poetry. 
 
 And over this second pageaunte the wrytyng was 
 thus: 
 
 Manhod. 
 
 Manhod I am, therefore I me delyght 
 To hunt and hawke, to nourishe up and fede 
 The grayhounde to the course, the hawke to the flyght, 
 And to bestryde a good and lusty stede : 
 These thynges become a very man in dede ! 
 Yet thynketh this boy his pevishe game swetter, 
 But what no force, his reason is no better. 
 
 " In the third pageaunt, was paynted the goodly 
 yonge man, in the seconde pageaunt — lyeng on the 
 grounde. And uppon him stode ladye Venus, 
 goddes of love ; and by her, uppon this man, stode 
 the lytle god Cupyde. And over this thyrde pa- 
 geaunt, this was the wrytyng that foloweth; 
 
 Venus and Cupyde. 
 
 Who so ne knoweth the strengthe power and myghte, 
 Of Venus and me her lytle sonne Cupyde, 
 Thou Manhod shalt a myrour bene a ryght, 
 By us subdued for all thy great pryde, 
 My fyry dart perceth thy tender syde 
 Now thou whiche erst despysedst children small, 
 Shall waxe a chylde agayne and be my thrall." 
 
 " In the fourth pageaunte was paynted an old sage 
 father sittynge in a chayre. And lyeng under his 
 fete was paynted the ymage of Venus and Cupyde 
 
Poetry.] Sir T. More. lxvii 
 
 that were in the thirde pageaunte. And over this 
 fourthe pageaunte the scripture was thus ; 
 
 Age. 
 Old Age am I, with lokkes thynne and here, 
 Of our short lyfe, the last and best parte : 
 Wyse and discrete : the publike wele, therefore, 
 I helpe to rule, to my labour and smart : 
 Therefore Cupyde withdrawe thy fyry dart, 
 Chargeable matters shall of love oppresse, 
 Thy chyldish game and ydle bysinesse. 
 
 "In the fifth pageaunt was paynted an image of 
 Death : and under his fete lay the olde man in the 
 fourthe pageaunte. And above this fift pageant, 
 this was the saying ; 
 
 Deth. 
 
 Though I be foule ugly lene and mysshape, 
 Yet there is none in all the worlde wyde, 
 That may my power withstande or escape : 
 Therefore sage father, greatly magnifyed, 
 Discende from your chayre — set aparte your pryde— 
 Witsafe* to lende (though it be to your payne) 
 To me a fole, some of your wise brayne. 
 
 "In the sixt pageant was painted lady Fame. And 
 under her fete was the picture of Death that was 
 painted in fift pageant. And over this sixt pa- 
 geaunt the writyng was as foloweth ; 
 
 * Vouchsafe. 
 
Ixviii Works of [Poetry. 
 
 Fame, 
 
 Fame I am called, marvayle you nothing, 
 Though with tonges am compassed all rounde, 
 For in voyce of people is my chiefe livyng : 
 
 cruel death, thy power I confounde ! 
 
 When thou a noble man hast brought to grounde 
 Maugry thy teeth to lyve cause him shall I,* 
 Of people in parpetuall memory. 
 
 " In the seventh pageant was paynted the ymage of 
 Tyme, and under his fete was lyeng the picture of 
 Fame that was in the sixt pageant. And this was 
 the scripture over the seventh pageaunt, 
 Tyme. 
 I, whom thou seest with horyloge f in hande, 
 Am named tyme; the Lord of every houre; 
 
 1 shall in space destroy both see and lande. 
 
 O simple Fame, how darest thou man honoure, 
 Promising of his name an endlesse floure 1 
 Who may in the world have a name eternall? 
 When I shall in proces distroy the world and all ! 
 
 " In the eyght pageant was pictured the ymage of 
 lady Eternitie, sittyng in a chayre, under a sump- 
 tious clothe of estate, crowned with an imperiall 
 crown. And under her fete lay the picture of Time 
 that was in the seventh pageant. And above this 
 eight pageaunt, was it written as foloweth: 
 
 * " In spite of thy teeth, I shall cause him to live." 
 f A dial; time-piece. 
 
Poetry.'] Sir T. More. Ixix 
 
 Eternitee. 
 
 Me needeth not to bost, I am Eternitie ! 
 The very name signifyeth well, 
 That myne empyre infinite shal be. 
 Thou mortall Tyme, every man can tell, 
 Art nolhyng els but the mobiltie 
 Of sonne and mone chaungyng in every degre! 
 When then they shall leve theyr course thou shalt be 
 
 brought, 
 For all thy pride and bostyng, into nought. 
 
 " In the nynth pageant was paynted a Poet sitting 
 in a chayre. And over this pageant were there 
 writen these verses in Latin folowyng. 
 The Poet. 
 
 Hasjictas quemcunquejuvat spectarejiguras, 
 
 (Sed mira veros quas put at arte homines. J 
 Ille potest veris animum sic pasccre rebus, 
 
 Ut pictis oculos pascit imaginibus. 
 Namque videbit utifragilis bona lubrica mundi 
 
 Tarn cito non veniunt, quam cito pretereunt. 
 Gaudia, laus et honor, celeri pcde omnia cedunt, 
 
 Qui manet excepto semper amore dei. 
 Ergo homines levibusjamjam diffidite rebus, 
 
 Nulla recessuro spes adhibenda bono. 
 Qui dabit aternum nobis pro munere vitam, 
 
 In permansuro ponite vota deo. 
 
 The remaining original poetical compositions of 
 our author have the following titles ; 2. " A ruful 
 lamentacion (written by Master Thomas More in his 
 youth), of the deth of quene Elizabeth, mother to 
 
lxx Works of [Poetry. 
 
 king Henry the eight, wife to king Henry the 
 seventh, and eldest doughter to king Edward the 
 fourth, which quene Elizabeth dyed in childbed in 
 February, in the yere of our lord, 1503, and in the 
 18. yere of the raigne of king Henry the seventh." 
 
 This is given at length by Dr. Johnson, in his 
 " History of the English Language," prefixed to his 
 Dictionary: it has a few pretty thoughts, but is, 
 upon the whole flat and uninteresting. 
 
 3. " Certain meters in English written by Master 
 Thomas More in hys youth for the Boke of Fortune, 
 and caused them to be printed in the begynnyng of 
 that boke." 
 
 These comprise seven pages of the original folio 
 edition, and are also incorporated in the 4to. Dic- 
 tionary of Dr. Johnson ; though they are hardly 
 worth the trouble of transcription. " The Boke 
 of Fortune," to which they were prefixed, is said by 
 Ritson, (Bibliogr. Poet. 281.) to be " unknown." 
 
 The short * ballettes" of 4. " Lewys the lost 
 lover," and 5. " Davy the dycer," inserted at p. 
 1432, 3. of the folio edition, and also quoted by 
 Dr. Johnson, seem to be the whole of More's 
 original poetry. 
 
 At the conclusion of hfc ** Lyfe of John Picus, 
 Earle of Mirandula," we have twelve pages of very 
 dull poetry, under the following titles : 
 
 6. ■" Twelve rules of John Picus, Earl of Miran- 
 dula, partely exciting, partely directing a man in 
 spiritual bataile. 
 
Poetry.'] Sir T. More. . Ixxi 
 
 7. *" The twelve weapons of spirituall battayle 
 which every manne shoulde have at hand, when the 
 pleasure of asinnefull temptacion commeth to his 
 minde." 
 
 This is probably duller than the preceding. 
 We have next 
 
 8. " The twelve properties or condicions of alover." 
 This is a religious piece, and has some little merit. 
 It compares our temporal attachments with what 
 should be our spiritual ones : thus, as we ardently 
 prefer one individual to another, so ardent should be 
 our affection towards God. The following are among 
 the best specimens of this composition. 
 The Hi. Propertie, 
 The third point of a perfit lover is, 
 To make him freshe; to see that al thing bene 
 Appointed wel, and nothing set amis j 
 But all well fashioned, proper, goodly, clene, 
 That in his persone there be nothing sene 
 In speache, apparaile, gesture, looke, or pace, 
 That may offende or minish any grace. 
 
 The x. Propertie. 
 The lover is of color dead and pale, 
 There will no sleepe into his eyes stalke, 
 He savoureth neither meate, wine, nor ale, 
 He mindeth not what men about him talke ; 
 But eate he, drinke he, sitte, lye downe, or walke, 
 He burneth ever, as it were with fire, 
 In the fervent heate of his desire. 
 
Ixxii Works of [Poetry. 
 
 Here shoulde the iove of God ensaumple take, 
 To have him continually in remembraunce ; 
 With him in prayer and meditacion wake, 
 Whyle other playe, revil, sing, and daunce. 
 None earthly joye, disporte, or vayne pleasaunce, 
 Should him delite, or any thyng remove 
 His ardent minde from God, his heavenly love. 
 
 The xi. Propertie. 
 Diversly passioned is the lover's hart, 
 Now pleasaunt hope, now dread and grievous fere, 
 Now perfit blisse, now bitter sorowe smart, 
 And whether his love be with him, or els where, 
 Oft from his eyes there falleth many a tere ! 
 For very joy, when they together bee — 
 When they be sundred, for adversitee. 
 
 These specimens of poetry may be sufficient to 
 convince the reader that the celebrity of our author 
 could never have rested upon the slender founda- 
 tion of his Muse. Mr. Ellis observes * that More's 
 u Poems possess considerable merit, though they 
 are too diffuse and languid :" probably the poem of 
 the u Pageauntes" is next in merit to the " Sergeant 
 and Frere." The remainder, both original and trans- 
 lated, can be read only as a matter of curiosity .+ 
 
 * Specimens of the Early English Poets, vol. ii. 8. note. 
 
 f More's Great Grandson entertained a very different 
 
 opinion of these poems; with what justice the reader is 
 
 left to determine. The Latin poetry of our author was 
 
 unquestionably more successful, and received the merited 
 
Prose.] Sir T. More. Ixxiii 
 
 Whether More ever continued his poetical attempts, 
 or whether he was convinced, from the preceding, 
 that he was an unsuccessful Bard — or whether he 
 had really an aversion to poetry — can be only mat- 
 ter of conjecture. We have certainly no reason to 
 regret the cessation of the labours of his Muse. 
 
 Our attention may now be called to the more in- 
 teresting parts of our author's works, relating to his 
 
 Prose. 
 The first prosaical work with which Rastell's pon- 
 derous folio opens, is called 
 
 1. "The Life of John Picus, Erie of Myran- 
 dula, a great Lorde of Italy, an excellent conny ng 
 
 commendations of a numerous tribe of foreign scholars — 
 among whom, Rhenanus thus speaks of them to Pitchey- 
 merus. " Thomas More is marvellous in every respect ; 
 for he compoundeth most eloquently, and translateth most 
 happily. How sweetly do his verses flow from him ? how 
 nothing in them seemeth constrained ? how easy are all 
 things there that he speaketh of? nothing is hard, nothing 
 rugged, nothing obscure ; he is pure, he is witty, he is 
 elegant ; besides, he doth temper all things with mirth, as 
 that I never read a merrier man ! I could think that the 
 muses have heaped upon him alone all their pleasant con- 
 ceits, and witty merriments: moreover, his quips are not 
 biting, but full of pleasantness, and very proper; yea, 
 rather any thing than stinging. For he jesteth, but with- 
 out mordacity ; he scoffeth, yet without contumely." 
 Gr. grandson's Life, 4to. edit. p. 23. 4. 
 k 
 
lxxiv Works of [Life of 
 
 man in all sciences, and vertuous of living : with 
 divers epistles and other workes of the sayd John 
 Picus, full of greate science, vertue, and wis- 
 dome : whose life and woorkes bene worthy and 
 digne to be read, and often to be had in memory. 
 Translated out of Latin into Englishe by Maister 
 Thomas More." 
 
 This is supposed to be the earliest of More's prose 
 compositions, and was undoubtedly written in his 
 youth.* It opens with the following epistolary de- 
 dication; which we find was composed " in the be- 
 ginning of a new year." 
 
 " Unto his right entirely beloved Sister in Christ, 
 Joyeuce Leigh, Thomas More, greeting in our Lord.-\- 
 
 It is, and of long time hath been, my well beloved 
 sister, a custom in the beginning of the new year, 
 
 * '* Finding his bodie, for all his austerity, ready still to 
 endanger his soul, although at all times he shunned idle- 
 ness more than any other man, he determined to marry ; 
 and therefore he propounded to himself, as a pattern of 
 life, a singular layman, John Picus, Earl of Mirandula, 
 who was a man famous for virtue, and most eminent for 
 learning ; his life he translated and set out, as also many 
 of his most worthy letters, and his twelve precepts of good 
 life ; which are extant in the beginning of his English 
 Works." — Great-grandson's Life, 4to. edit. 31. 2. 
 
 f In the ensuing Specimens of More's Prose Composi- 
 tions, I have uniformly adopted the modern orthography. 
 
Picas."] Sir T. More. Ixxv 
 
 (for) friends to send between, presents or gifts, as 
 the witnesses of their love and friendship; and also 
 signifying that they desire, each to other, that year, a 
 good continuance and prosperous end of that lucky 
 beginning. But commonly all those presents, that are 
 used customably all in this manner between friends 
 to be sent, be such things as pertain only unto the 
 body ; either to be fed, or to be clad, or some otherwise 
 delighted: by which itseemeth, that their friendship 
 is but fleshly, and stretcheth in manner to the body 
 only. But forasmuch as the love and amity of 
 Christian folk should be rather ghostly friendship 
 than bodily — since that all faithful people are rather 
 spiritual than carnal— [for, as the apostle saith, 
 * We be not now in flesh, but in spirit, if Christ 
 abide in us."] I, therefore, mine heartily beloved 
 sister, in good luck of this new year, have sent you 
 such a present as may bear witness of my tender love 
 and zeal to the happy continuance and gracious in- 
 
 My reason for having taken this liberty must be stated in the 
 sensible language of Mr. G. Ellis. [The Editor] " conceives, 
 that, although some of the variations which have taken 
 place in our mode of spelling may have been dictated by 
 caprice, the greater number were adopted with a view to 
 prevent ambiguity, and that it is no injury to an author to 
 render him more intelligible." Specimens of the Early 
 English Poets, edit. 1790* Pref. p. v. Some good rea- 
 sons for adopting the modern orthography, in works of 
 this kind, may be seen in Mr. G. Burnett's Specimens of 
 English Prose Writers, vol. i. Pref. p. xi. 
 
Ixxvi Works of [Life of 
 
 crease of virtue in your soul. And whereas the 
 gifts of other folk declare that they wish their 
 friends to be worldly fortunate, mine testifieth that 
 I desire to have you godly prosperous. 
 
 " These works, more profitable than large, were 
 made in Latin by one John Picus, Erie of Miran- 
 dula, a lordship in Ita*ly ; of whose cunning and 
 virtue we need here nothing to speak : forasmuch as, 
 hereafter, we peruse the course of his whole life, 
 rather after our little power slenderly, than after his 
 merits sufficiently. The works are such, that truly, 
 good sister, I suppose of the quantity there cometh 
 none in your hand more profitable — neither to the 
 achieving of temperance in prosperity, nor to the 
 purchasing of patience in adversity, nor to despising 
 of worldly vanity, nor to the desiring of heavenly 
 felicity — which works I would require you gladly to 
 receive, ne were it that they be such, that for the 
 goodly matter (howsoever they be translated) may 
 delight and please any person that hath any mean* 
 desire and love to God. And that yourself is such 
 one, as for your virtue and fervent zeal to God can- 
 not but joyously receive any thing that meanly 
 soundeth, either to the reproach of vice, commenda- 
 tion of virtue, or honour and laud of God ; who pre- 
 serve you !" 
 
 The Life of Picus consists of nine pages and half; 
 the Epistles of the same person, fill an equal succeed- 
 ing number. The Life is divided into a number of 
 * Moderate. 
 
Picus."\ Sir T. More. Ixxvii 
 
 short chapters, of which the following are among the 
 most interesting specimens. Considering, indeed, 
 they were composed most probably before More had 
 attained his twentieth year, and therefore at the 
 close of the fifteenth century, they may reproach 
 us with the trifling improvements which three centu- 
 ries have wrought in our language. 
 
 Of his Parents and time of his Birth. 
 1 *' In the year of our Lord God 1463, Pius the Second 
 being then the General Vicar of Christ in his Church, and 
 Frederick III. of that name ruling the Empire, this noble- 
 man was born, the last child of his Mother Julia; a woman 
 coming of a noble stock ; his Father, hight * John Francis, 
 a Lord of great honour and authority. 
 
 Of the Wonder that appeared before his Birth. 
 " A marvellous sight was seen before his birth : there 
 appeared a fiery garland standing over the chamber of his 
 Mother while she travailed, and suddenly vanished away: 
 which appearance was, perad venture, a token that he which 
 should that hour in the company of mortal men be born, 
 in the perfection of understanding should be like the perfect 
 figure of that round circle or garland ; and that his excel- 
 lent name should round about the circle of this whole world 
 be magnified: whose mind should always, as the fire, 
 aspire upwards to heavenly things : and whose fiery elo- 
 quence should, with an ardent heart, in time to come, 
 worship and praise Almighty God with all his strength. 
 
 * Called. 
 
Ixxviu Works of [Life of 
 
 And as that flame suddenly vanished, so should this fire 
 soon from the eyes of mortal people be hid. We have often 
 times read, that such unknown and strange tokens hath 
 gone before, or followeth the nativity of excellent, wise, 
 and virtuous men, departing, as it were, and (by God's 
 commandment) severing the cradles of such special chil- 
 dren from the company of other of the common sort: and 
 shewing that they be born to the achieving of some great 
 thing. 
 
 "But to pass over other: the great St. Ambrose, a swarm 
 of bees flew about his mouth, in his cradle ; and some en- 
 tered into his mouth, and after that, issuing out again, and 
 flying up on high, hiding themselves among the clouds, 
 escaped both the sight of his father and of all them that 
 were present. Which prognostication, one Paulinus making 
 much of, expounded it to signify to us the sweet honey 
 combs of his pleasant writing: which should shew out the 
 celestial gifts of God, and should lift up the mind of men 
 from earth into heaven." 
 
 Of his Person. 
 " He was of feature and shape seemly and beauteous ; 
 of stature goodly and high ; of flesh tender and soft; his 
 visage lovely and fair; his colour white, intermingled with 
 comely red; his eyes grey and quick of look; his teeth 
 white and even; his hair yellow and not too piked. 
 
 Five causes that in so short time brought him to so 
 marvellous cunning. 
 
 " To the bringing forth of so wonderful effects in so small 
 time, I consider five causes to have come together: first, 
 
Picus."] Sir T. More. lxxix 
 
 an incredible wit ; secondly, a marvellous fast memory ; 
 thirdly, great substance. By the which, to the buying of 
 his Books, as well Latin as Greek, and other tongues, he 
 was especially holpen. vn. m. ducats he had laid out in the 
 gathering together of volumes of all manner of literature; 
 the fourth cause was his busy and indefatigable study ; and 
 the fifth was the contempt or despising of all earthly things. 
 
 Of his Liberality and contempt of Riches. 
 
 " Liberality only in him passed measure; for so far was 
 he from the giving of any diligence to earthly things, that 
 he seemed somewhat besprent* with the freckle of negli- 
 gence. His friends oftentimes admonished him, that he 
 should not all utterly despise riches ; shewing him, that it 
 was his dishonesty and rebuke, when it was reported (were 
 it true or false), that his negligence and setting nought by 
 money, gave his servants occasion of deceit and robbery. 
 Nevertheless, that mind of his (which evermore on high 
 cleaved fast in contemplation, and in the searching of 
 nature's council) could never let down itself to the consi- 
 deration and overseeing of these base, abject, and vile 
 earthly trifles. His high steward came on a time to him, 
 and desired him to receive his account of such money as 
 he had in many years received of his : and brought forth 
 his books of reckoning. Picus answered him in this way ; 
 " my friend," (saith he,) " I know well you have mought 
 oftentimes, and yet may deceive me, and ye list : wherefore, 
 your examination of these expences shall not need. There 
 is no more to do — if I be ought in your debt, I shall pay 
 
 * Besprinkled. 
 
lxxx Works of [.Life of 
 
 is no more to do — if I be ought in your debt, I shall pay 
 you by and by : if you be in mine, pay me, either now, if 
 you have it, or hereafter, if you be now not able ! 
 
 Of his Behaviour in the extremes of his Life. 
 " When that one Albertus, his sister's son, a young man, 
 both of wit, cunning, and conditions, excellent — begun to 
 comfort him against death, and by natural reason to shew 
 him why it was not to be feared : but strongly to be taken, 
 as that only thing which maketh an end of all the labour, 
 pain, trouble, and sorrow of this short, miserable, deadly 
 life — he answered, that this was not the chief thing that 
 should make him content to die: because the death deter- 
 mineth the manifold incommodities and painfulness of this 
 wretchedness of this life : but rather this cause should make 
 him not content only, but also glad to die, for that death 
 maketh an end of sin: in as much as he trusted the short- 
 ness of his life should leave him no space to sin and offend. 
 He asked also all his servants forgiveness, if he had ever 
 before that day offended any of them ; for whom he had 
 provided by his Testament viii years before: for some of 
 them, meat and drink: for some, money; each of them 
 after their deserving. He shewed also to the abovenamed 
 Albertus, and many other creditable persons, that the 
 queen of Heaven came to him that night with a marvellous 
 fragrant odour, refreshing all his members that were bruised 
 with that fever, and promised him that he should not 
 utterly die. He lay always with a pleasant and merry 
 countenance, and in the very twitches and pangs of death 
 he spake as though he beheld the Heavens open. And all 
 
Picus."] Sir T. More. lxxxi 
 
 that came to him, and saluted him, offering him their ser- 
 vice with very loving words, he received, thanked, and 
 kissed. The executor of his moveable goods he made one 
 Antony his Brother. The heir of his lands he made the 
 poor people of the Hospital of Florence. And in this wise, 
 into the hands of our Saviour, he gave up his spirit." p. 8. 
 
 How reasonable Men be changed into unreasonable 
 Beasts. 
 
 There was sometime in CEaea, a woman called Circe, which 
 by enchantment, (as Virgil maketh mention), used with a 
 drink to turn as many men, as received it, into divers 
 likeness and figures of sundry beasts: some into lions, some 
 into bears, some into swine, some into wolves — which after- 
 wards walked ever tame about her house, and waited upon 
 her in such use or service as she list to put unto them. In 
 likewise the flesh, if it makes us drunk in the wine of volup- 
 tuous pleasure, or makes the soul leave the noble use of his 
 reason, and incline unto sensuality and affections of the 
 body, then the flesh changeth us from the figure of reason- 
 able men into the likeness of unreasonable beasts, and that 
 diversely, after the convenience and similitude between oor 
 sensual affections and the brutish properties of sundry 
 beasts. As the proud hearted man into a lion, the irous 
 into a bear, the lecherous into a goat, the drunken glutton 
 into a swine, the ravenous extortioner into a wolf, the false 
 deceiver into a fox, the mocking jester into an ape: from 
 which beaBtly shape may we never be restored to our own 
 likeness again, unto the time we have cast up again the drink 
 of the bodily affections, by which we were into these figures 
 n 
 
lxxxii Works of [Richard III. 
 
 enchanted. When there cometh sometimes a monstrous 
 
 beast to the town, we run and are glad to pay some money 
 
 to have a sight thereof : but I fear if men would look upon 
 
 themselves advisedly, they should see a more monstrous 
 
 beast nearer home : for they would perceive themselves, by 
 
 their wretched inclination to divers beastly passions, changed 
 
 in their soul, not into the shape of one, but of many beasts ; 
 
 that is to say, of all them whose brutish appetites they 
 
 follow. Let us then beware, as Picus counselleth us, 
 
 that we be not drunken in the cups of Circe; that is to say, 
 
 in the sensual affections of the flesh; lest we deform the 
 
 image of God in our souls, after whose image we be made, 
 
 and make ourselves worse than idolaters. For if he be 
 
 odious to God, which turneth the image of a beast into 
 
 God — how much is he more odious, which turneth the 
 
 image of God into a beast?!" p. 10. 
 
 2. " The History of King Richard the 
 
 Thirde, (unfinished) written by Master Thomas 
 
 More, then one of the under-sheriffs of London : 
 
 about the year of our Lorde 1513. Which 
 
 worke hath bene before this tyme printed, in 
 
 Hardynge's Chronicle, and in Hally's Chronicle: 
 
 but very much corrupte in many places, some- 
 
 tyme havyng lesse, and sometime having more, 
 
 and altered in wordes and whole sentences : 
 
 muche varying from the copie of his own hand, 
 
 by which this is printed." 
 
 Such is the title prefixed by the editor, Rastell, to 
 this edition of More's celebrated history of Richard 
 the III. — " which, says Mr. Laing, [in an elaborate 
 
Richard III.] Sir T. More. lxxxiii 
 
 and excellent appendix to the 12th. vol. of Dr. 
 Henry's Hist, of Gr. Britain, p. 395.] has been 
 transcribed in every subsequent chronicle, adopted 
 by Polydore Virgil, and followed almost implicitly 
 by modern historians." It is supposed to have been 
 first written in the Latin language as early as the 
 year 1508. Of its authenticity a few words will be 
 presently said. 
 
 The following specimen of More's style, from this 
 popular work, may not be unacceptable to the reader ; 
 particularly as it has been omitted by Dr. Johnson 
 and Mr. Burnett. There are parts of it written with 
 peculiar force and interest. 
 
 The Description of Shore's Wife. 
 
 This woman was born in London, worshipfully friended, 
 honestly brought up, and very well married, saving some- 
 what too soon ; her husband an honest citizen, young and 
 goodly, and of good substance. But forasmuch as they were 
 coupled before she was well ripe, she not very fervently 
 loved for whom she never longed. Which was happily the 
 thing that the more easily made her incline unto the king's 
 appetite when he required her. Howbeit, the respect of 
 his royalty, the hope of gay apparel, ease, pleasure and 
 other wanton wealth, was able soon to pierce a soft ten- 
 der heart. But when the king had abused her, anon her 
 husband (as he was an honest man and one that knew his 
 good, not presuming to touch a king's concubine), left her 
 up to him altogether. When the King died, the Lord 
 
lxxxiv Works of [Richard HI. 
 
 Chamberlain took her : which in the King's days, although 
 he was enamoured with her, yet he forbare her, either for 
 reverence or for a certain friendly faithfulness. Proper 
 she was and fair; nothing in her body that you would have 
 changed, but if you would have wished her somewhat 
 higher. Thus say they that knew her in her youth. Al- 
 beit some that now see her (for yet she liveth) deem her 
 never to have been well visaged. Whose judgment seemeth 
 to me, somewhat like as though men should guess the 
 beauty of one long before departed, by her scalp taken out 
 of the charnel-house: for now she is old lean, withered, 
 and dried up, nothing left but [sh]rivild skin and hard bone. 
 And yet being even such, whoso will advise 'her visage, 
 might guess and devise which parts, how filled, would make 
 it a fair face. Yet delighted not men so much in her 
 beauty as in her pleasant behaviour. For a proper wit had 
 she, and could both read well and write : merry in com- 
 pany, ready and quick of answer, neither mute nor full of 
 babble, sometimes taunting without displeasure and not 
 without disport. The King would say that he had three con- 
 cubines, which in three divers properties diversly excelled. 
 One the merriest, another the wiliest, the third the holiest 
 harlot in his realm, as one who no man could get out of 
 the church lightly to any place, but it were to his bed. 
 The other two were somewhat greater personages, and, 
 nathless, of their humility content to be nameless ; and to 
 forbear the praise of those properties. But the merriest 
 was this Shore's wife, in whom the King therefore took 
 special pleasure. For many he had, but her he loved ; 
 whose favour, to say the truth, (for sin it were to bely the 
 
Richard HI.] Snt T. More. Ixxxv 
 
 devil) she never abused to any man's hurt, but to many a 
 man's comfort and relief. Where the King took displea- 
 sure, she would mitigate and appease his mind : where men 
 were out of favour, she would bring them in his grace. 
 For many that had highly offended, she obtained pardon. 
 Of great forfeitures she gat men remission. And, finally, 
 in many weighty suits, she stood many men in great stead, 
 either for none, or very small, rewards, and those rather 
 gay than rich. Either for that she was content with the 
 deed itself well done, or, for that she delighted to be sued 
 unto, and to shew what she was able to do with the King; 
 or, for that wanton women and wealthy be not always 
 covetous. I doubt not some shall think the woman too 
 slight a thing to be written of, and set among the remem- 
 brances of great matters: which they shall specially think, 
 that happily shall esteem her only by that they now see of 
 her. But me seemeth the chance so much the more 
 worthy to be remembered, in how much she is now in the 
 more beggarly condition; unfriended, and worn out of ac- 
 quaintance, after good substance ; after as great favour 
 with the Prince, after as great suit and seeking to with all 
 those that in those days had business to speed ; as many other 
 men were in their times, which be now famous only by the 
 infamy of their ill deeds. Her doings were not much less; 
 albeit they be much less remembered because they were not 
 60 evil. For men use, if they have an evil turn, to write it in 
 marble : and whoso doth us a good turn, we write it in dust 
 -. — which is not worst proved by her : for, at this day, she 
 beggeth of many at this day living, who, at this day, had 
 begged if she had not been !" p. $6. 
 
lxxxvi Works of [Richard III. 
 
 A word or two remains to be said about the au- 
 thenticity of the facts related in this history. Mr. 
 Hume has bestowed the most unqualified commenda- 
 tion upon the work. Mr. Macdiarmid has impli- 
 citly adopted the sentiments of Hume, without call- 
 ing the reader's attention to the doubts started by 
 Buck and Mr. H. Walpole, and, afterwards, so saga- 
 gaciously confirmed by Mr. Laing, in the Appendix 
 before alluded to. # Mr. Burnett, in his " Speci- 
 " mens of English Prose Writers," vol. i. p. 383, 
 &c. has condensed the arguments of Mr. Laing ; 
 and from both it would appear that Cardinal [after- 
 wards Archbishop] MoRTON,f was the original au- 
 thor of this history, commonly known by the name of 
 More's. " A Latin history of Richard, composed by 
 that prelate was preserved in the last century by 
 Roper, a descendant of More, to whom, as a favourite 
 pupil the book had devolved." [Buck apud Kennet 
 546.] " That such was the source of More's informa- 
 tion, the substratum on which he constructed his his- 
 tory, is farther confirmed by the English edition; 
 which extends beyond the period of Richard's acces- 
 sion, &c. The subject is resumed and continued by 
 Hall and Grafton, in a manner equally minute and cir- 
 cumstantial, nor apparently less authentic; and as 
 the particulars could only be obtained from Morton, 
 I conclude that they, and More, had access to the 
 
 * See p. lxxxiii. ante. f Vide post. p. 45. note. 
 
Richard HI.'] Sir T. More. lxxxvii 
 
 same original information, and attribute the mate' 
 rials of the history in question to Morton ; the 
 ornamental and classical varnish to More." " I vene- 
 rate too much," says Mr. Laing, ". in another place, 
 the character of Sir Thomas More, not to attribute, 
 if possible, his mistakes to ignorance; but I am 
 afraid that his narrative discovers, in some places, 
 an intended and artful deviation from the truth." 
 See Mr. G. Burnett's Specimens, vol. i. p. 388. 
 Appendix to Dr. Henry, vol. xii. p. 397. 405. 
 
 We are now reluctantly to take leave of the most 
 interesting compositions of our author, and notice 
 those which are devoted to the dry, and too fre- 
 quently, harsh and uninstructive subjects of polemical 
 divinity. It is deeply to be regretted that More, as 
 he grew older, ceased to cultivate the early bent of 
 his genius for the belles-lettres department of litera- 
 ture. His success in what he has executed in this 
 department, leaves us to acknowledge the disap- 
 pointment which posterity has experienced from his 
 treatises on the Catholic and Protestant controversy; 
 for, in truth, More is unworthy of himself in almost 
 every thing which he has written upon the subject. 
 
 That his religious writings sometimes evince ferti- 
 lity of fancy, and strength of language, cannot be 
 denied : but that he is, upon the whole, rather coarse 
 than witty, and flimsy than argumentative — that 
 he has too frequently treated the serious subjects upon 
 which he wrote, with a levity and vulgarity in- 
 
lxxxviii Works of [Richard III. 
 
 consistent with the character of a pious and learned 
 man — must also be as readily conceded. More has > 
 indeed, in too many instances, substituted personal 
 abuse for licensed raillery ; and while, with the an- 
 cients before him, and Erasmus as a contemporary 
 guide, he strove to impart a classical spirit to his 
 productions, he has not only fallen considerably 
 beneath himself, but has set a very striking example 
 how great talents and great virtues may be sacrificed 
 at the shrine of misplaced zeal. 
 
 What Dr. Knight says upon this subject, is not 
 very wide of the truth. u Let any one but read the 
 vindication of our Protestant faith by poor John 
 Frith, a boy in effect ; and a naked prisoner — and 
 then run over the answers and oppositions of the 
 noble Lord Chancellor, Sir Thomas More, and com- 
 pare the sense, the style, the spirit of them both — 
 and he need not be told on which side the advan- 
 tage lies."* But I proceed to enumerate the re- 
 maining works of our author. 
 
 * Life of Dean Colet, p. 104. 5. There was too good 
 cause, I fear, for the following pertinent remarks of More's 
 friend, Erasmus, in one of the epistles of the latter. " Olim 
 etiam reverenter audiebatur Hereticus, et absolvebatur si 
 satisfaciebat: sin convictus perstitisset, extrema ptenaerat, 
 non admittebatur ad Ecclesiasticam Communionem. Nunc 
 alia res est Haereseos crimen; et tamen ob quamlibet 
 levem causam, statim hoc habeant in ore " Hceresis est ! 
 Olim Haereticus habebatur, qui dissentiebat ab Evangeliis, 
 
Four Last Things.] Sir T. More. lxxxix 
 
 3. u A Treatyce (unfynyshed) upon these wordes of 
 holye Scrypture, 1 Memorare novissima, et in 
 eternum nonpeccabis. Remember the last thynges 
 and thou shalt never synne." Made about the 
 year of our lorde 1522, by Sir Thomas More then 
 knyghte, and one of the privye counsayle of 
 King Henry theight, and also under treasorer of 
 Englande." 
 This treatise extends from page 72 to page 102 
 inclusive, of Tottel's edition. The ensuing speci- 
 men shews how forcibly and pleasingly our author 
 could write when he was divested of personal feeling. 
 
 Spiritual Pleasures, 
 Now see the blindness of us worldly folks ! how pre- 
 cisely we presume to shoot our foolish bolt, in those matters 
 most in which we least can skill. For I little doubt, but 
 that among four thousand, taken out at adventure, we 
 shall not find four score, but they shall boldly affirm it for 
 a thing too painful, busily to remember these Four Last 
 Things. And yet durst I lay a wager, that of those four 
 
 ab Articulis fidei, et his quae cum his parem obtinerent au- 
 tboritatem. Nunc si quis unquam dissentiat a Thoma, 
 vocatur Haereticus; imo, si quis a commentitia ratione 
 quam heri Sophista quispiam in Scholis commentus est. 
 Quicquid non placet, quicquid non intelligunt, Haeresis est ; 
 Grace scire Haeresis est; expolite loqui Haeresis est; et 
 quicquid seipsi non faciunt, Hceresis est." Erasmi Epist. 
 JBasil, 1521. p. 477* cited by Dr. Knight. 
 
 o 
 
xc Works of [Four Last Things. 
 
 thousand, you shall not find fourteen that hath deeply 
 thought on them four times in all their days. If men 
 would vouchsafe to put in proof and experience the opera- 
 tion and working of this medicine, the remembrance of 
 these four last things, they should find therein, not the 
 pleasure of their life lost, but so great a pleasure grow 
 thereby, that they never felt the like before; nor would 
 have supposed that ever they should have felt any such. 
 For it is to be known, the like as we be made of two 
 far divers and unlike substances, the body and the soul, 
 so we be apt and able to receive two divers and unlike 
 pleasures; the one carnal and fleshly, the other ghostly and 
 spiritual. And like as the soul excelleth the body, so 
 doth the sweetness of Spiritual Pleasure far pass and excel 
 the gross and filthy pleasure of all fleshly delight: which 
 is, in truth, no very true pleasure, but a false counterfeit 
 image of pleasure. And the cause why men be so mad 
 thereon, is only for ignorance, and lack of knowledge of 
 the other. As those that lack insight of precious stones, 
 hold themselves as well content and satisfied with a beryl 
 or chrystal well counterfeited, as with a right natural 
 diamond. But he that by good use and experience, hath 
 in his eye the right mark and very true lustre of the dia- 
 mond, rejecteth and will not look upon the counterfeit, be 
 it ever so well handled, ever so craftily polished! And 
 trust it well that, in likewise, if men would well accustom 
 themselves to spiritual pleasure, and that s-weet feeling that 
 virtuous people have of the good hope of Heaven, they would 
 shortly set at nought, and at length abhor, the foul delight 
 and filthy liking that riseth of sensual and fleshly pleasure; 
 which is never so pleasantly spiced with delight and liking, 
 
Worship of Images.] Sir T. More. xci 
 
 but that it bringeth therewith such a grudge and grief of 
 conscience, that it maketh the stomach wamble,* and fare 
 as it would vomit. And yet, notwithstanding, such is our 
 blind custom, that we persevere therein without care or 
 cure of the better: as a sow, content with draffe dirt and 
 mire, careth neither for better meat nor better bed. 
 
 " Think not that every thing is pleasant that men for 
 madness laugh at. For thou shalt in Bedlam see one laugh 
 at the knocking of his own head against a post, and yet 
 there is little pleasure therein ! But ye think peradventure 
 this sample as mad as the madman, and as little to the pur- 
 pose. I am content ye so think. But what will ye say, if ye 
 see men that are taken and reputed wise, laugh much more 
 madly than he? Shall ye not see such laugh at their own 
 craft, when they have, as they think, wilily done their 
 neighbour wrong ? Now whoso seeth not that his laughter 
 is more mad than the laughter of the madman, I hold him 
 madder than both!" p. 72. 
 
 4. " A Dialogue of Syr Thomas More, Knyghte ; 
 one of the counsaill of our Soverayne Lord 
 the Kinge, and Chancellour of his Duchy of Lan- 
 caster. Wherein be treatyd divers maters, as of 
 the Veneracion and Worship of Ymages and rely- 
 ques, praying to saintes, and goyingon pylgrim- 
 age. With many other thinges touchyng the 
 pestilent secte of Luther and Tyndale, by the 
 tone bygone in Saxony : and by the tother 
 laboured to be brought into England. Made in 
 the yere of our Lord 1528." 
 
 * Overturn, heave. 
 
xcii Works of [Worship of Images. 
 
 This was among the most popular of More's con- 
 troversial writings, and ran through two editions in 
 two years; the first was printed in 1529, and is ac- 
 curately described by Herbert, whose copy of it is in 
 my possession. In the British Museum there is a 
 copy of the second edition of 1530. The work ex- 
 tends from page 105 to 288 inclusive, in Tottel's 
 edition. The following passage is a proof of the 
 skill with which our author could treat the subject 
 on which he was writing. 
 
 Why Heretics speak against Images. 
 
 " But now, as I began to say, since all names spoken or 
 written be but images, if you set nought by the name of 
 Jesus spoken or written, why should you set nought by his 
 image, painted or engraven, that representeth his holy 
 person to your remembrance, as much and more too, as 
 doth his name written? Nor these two words, Christus 
 Crucificus, do not so lively represent us the remembrance of 
 his bitter passion, as doth a blessed image of the crucifix ; 
 neither to a lay man, nor unto a learned. And this per- 
 ceive these Heretics themselves well enough; nor they 
 speak not against Images for any furtherance of devotion, 
 but plainly for a malicious mind, to quench men's devo- 
 tions ; for they see well enough that there is no man but 
 if he loveth another, he delighleth in his image or any thing 
 of his. And these Hereticks that be so sore against the 
 images of God, and his holy Saints, would be yet right 
 angry with him that would dishonestly handle an image 
 made in remembrance of one of themselves; where the 
 
Supplication, fyc] Sir T. More. xciii 
 
 wretches forbear not vilainously to handle and cast dirt in 
 dispute upon the holy crucifix, an image made in remem- 
 brance of our Saviour himself, and not only of his most 
 blessed person, but also of his most bitter passion!" p. 117. 
 
 5. " The Supplicacion of Soules, made Anno 
 3529, by Syr Thomas More, knight, counsaylour 
 to our Soverayne Lorde the Kynge, and Chaun- 
 celourofhys duchye of Lancaster." Agaynst 
 " The Supplicacion of Beggars."* 
 
 This tract, wri tten in opposition to a celebrated work, 
 (of which some account is given in the note below) 
 occupies 51 pages of Tottel's edition, and contains 
 
 * A curious anecdote, connected with this work, is thus 
 related by Fox, in his Book of Martyrs, vol. ii. p. 280, 
 edit. 1641. 
 
 " Master Moddis being with the king (Henry VIII.) in 
 talk of religion, and of the new bookes that were come 
 from beyond the seas, said, if it might please his Grace to 
 pardon him, and such as he would bring to his Grace, he 
 shoulde see such a booke as was marvell to heare of. The 
 king demanded what they were: he said, two of ) our mer- 
 chants, George Elyot, and George Robinson. The king 
 appointed a time to speak with them. When they came 
 before his presence ill a privy closet, he demanded what they 
 had to say, or to shew him. One of them said that there 
 was a book come to their hands, which they had there to 
 shew his Grace. When he saw it, he demanded if any of 
 them could read it. " Yea, said George Elyot, if it please 
 
xciv Works of [Supplication 
 
 some very severe but coarse animadversions. There 
 are few of More's treatises which exceed it in vio- 
 
 your Grace to heare it." I thought so (said the king) for 
 if need were, thou canst say it without book." 
 
 ** The whole booke being read out, the king made a long 
 pause, and then sayd, " If a man should pull down an old 
 stone wall, and begin at the lower part, the upper part thereof 
 might chance to fall on his head." And then he tooke the 
 booke and put it into his desk, and commanded them, upon 
 their allegiance, that they should not tell to anv man that 
 hee had seen the booke, &c. The copy of the foresaid 
 book, intituled of the Beggars, heere ensueth 
 
 u A certaine Li bell or booke, entituled The Supplication 
 of Beggers, throvvne and scattered at the procession in 
 Westminster, on Candlemas day, before King Henry 
 the eighth, for him to read and peruse, made and com- 
 piled by Master Fish." 
 
 The whole of this vulgar, but uncommonly energetic 
 performance will be found in Fox's Martyrs, from which 
 I extract the following singular passages — premising, that 
 the first two sections or paragraphs, de*cribe in very glow- 
 ing terms, the mischiefs resulting to the common people 
 from the taxes and tithes then levied by the Catholic 
 clergy. 
 
 " Here, if it please your grace to mark, you shall see a 
 thing far out of joynt. There are within your realme of 
 England 52,000 Parish Churches And this standing, that 
 there be but ten housholds in ever parish, yet aie there 
 five hundred thousand and twenty thousand housholds. 
 
of Souk.'] Sir T. More. xcv 
 
 lence of invective. The following is the opening : to 
 which the editor Rastell has affixed this marginal 
 
 And of every of these housholds, hath every of the five 
 orders of Friers, a penny a quarter, for every order : that 
 is, for all the five orders, five pence a quarter for every 
 house : that is, for all the five orders twenty pence a yeere 
 of every house. Summa ; five hundred and twenty thou- 
 sand quarters of angels, that is, 260,000 halfe angels. 
 Summa. 130,000 angels: Summa totalis 430,333 pounds, 
 six shillings, eight pence sterling. Whereof, not 400 
 yeeres passed, they had not one penny!" 
 
 " Oh grievous and painfull exaction thus yeerely to be 
 paied — from the which, the people of your noble predeces- 
 sors, the kings of the ancient Britaines, ever stood free !" 
 
 At sect. 21. More's reply to this work is noticed in very 
 sarcastic terms; his name and works are constantly alluded 
 to throughout the performance. The wit of " Master Fish" 
 is sometimes keen enough ; and although he seems to be 
 fond of narrating licentious deeds with a disgusting minute- 
 ness, yet, it must be confessed that, there are very bold 
 and striking passages in this tract — which cannot fail to 
 interest an English reader of the present times, and which 
 probably made some impression upon the irascible Monarch 
 to whom it was addressed. 
 
 The manner in which Fox concludes his notice of this 
 work, is too curious to be withheld from the reader. After 
 bestowing on More's character and publication every spe- 
 cies of abuse, clothed in the coarsest language, he adds — 
 " After that the Clergy of Englande, and especially the 
 
xcvi Works of [Supplication, fyc. 
 
 annotation. — U The silly souls in purgatory call unto 
 us for help." 
 
 To all good Christian People. 
 
 In most piteous wise continually calleth and crieth upon 
 your devout charity and most tender pity, for help, com- 
 fort and relief, your late acquaintance, kindred, spouses, 
 companions, play fellows, and friends, and now your humble 
 unacquainted and half forgotton suppliants; poor prisoners 
 of God, that sell souls in purgatory, here abiding and en- 
 during the grievous pains and hot cleansing fire, that 
 fretteth and burneth out the rusty and filthy spots of our 
 sin, till the mercy of Almighty God, the rather by your 
 good and charitable means, vouchsafe to deliver us 
 hence." 
 
 Cardinall (Wolsey), understood these bookes of the Beggers 
 Supplication aforesayd, to bee strawne abroad in the streets 
 of London, and also before the king, the sayd Cardinall 
 caused not onely his servants diligently to attend to gather 
 them up, that they should not come into the king's hands, 
 but also when he understood that the king had received one 
 or two of them, he came unto the king's majesty, saying, 
 " If it shall please your Grace, here are divers seditious 
 persons which have scattered abroad books containing 
 manifest errours and heresies," desiring his Grace to beware 
 of them. Whereupon the King, putting his hand in his 
 bosome, tooke out one of the bookes and delivered it unto 
 the Cardinall." Ibid. p. 284, 
 
Tracts, #c] Sir T. More. xcvii 
 
 Fox tells us that More published this work, " un- 
 der the name and title of The poore silly Soules 
 pewling out of Purgatory." Martyrs, vol. ii. 283. 
 6 ** The Confutacion of Tyndale's Answere, 
 
 made Anno 1532, by Syr Thorn as More, knighte, 
 
 Lorde Chancellour of Englande." 
 " The Second Boke which confuteth the Defence 
 
 of Tyndall, for hys Translacion of the Newe Tes- 
 
 tamente."* 
 
 * Fox has given us the following anecdote relating to 
 thefrst impression of Tindall's translation of the New Testa- 
 ment : a book, which is continually noticed by More in the 
 above work, and against which he pronounced many severe 
 anathemas. 
 
 " The new Testament began first to be translated by 
 William Tindall, and so came forth in print, about the 
 yeare of our Lord, 1529.; wherewith Cuthbert Tunstall, 
 Bishop of London, with Sir Thomas More, being sore ag- 
 grieved, devised how to destroy that false erroneous trans- 
 lation, as he called it. It hapned that one Augustine 
 Packington, a mercer, was then at Antwerpe, where the 
 Bishop was. This man favoured Tindall, but shewed the 
 contrary unto the bishop. The Bishop, being desirous to 
 bring his purpose to pass, communed how that he would 
 gladly buy the new Testaments. Packington hearing him 
 say so, said " My Lord, I can do more in this matter than 
 most merchants that bee here, if it be your pleasure — for 
 I know the Dutchmen and strangers that have bought them 
 of Tindall, and have them here to sell ; so that if it be 
 
xcviii Works of [Tracts 
 
 « The Thirde Boke. Hereafter foloweth the thirde 
 booke, in which be treated two chapiters of Tin- 
 dales booke, that is to wit, whither the churche 
 were before the ghospell, or the ghospell before 
 
 your Lordship's pleasure, 1 must disburse money to pay for 
 them, or else I cannot have them ; and so I will assure 
 you to have every Booke of them that is printed and un- 
 sold." The Bishop, thinking he had God by the toe, said, 
 " Doe your diligence, gentle Master Packington; get them 
 for me, and I will pay whatsoever they cost ; for I intend 
 to burne and destroy them all at Paul's Crosse." 
 
 " This Augustine Packington went unto William TindaU, 
 and declared the whole matter; and so, upon compact 
 made between them, the Bishop of London had the bookes ; 
 Packington had the thankes ; and Tindall had the money. 
 After this, Tindall corrected the same new Testaments 
 againe, and caused them to be newly imprinted, so that 
 they came thick and threefold over into England. When 
 the bishop perceived that, hee sent to Packington, and said 
 to him, " How cometh this that there are so many new 
 Testaments abroad ? You promised me that you would 
 buy them all." Then answered Packington : " Surely, 
 I bought all that were to be had : but I perceive they have 
 printed more since. I see it will never be better so long 
 as they have Letters and Stamps I Wherefore you were 
 best to buy the stamps too, and so you shall be sure." At 
 which answer the Bishop smiled — and so the matter ended." 
 See vol. ii. p. 286, 7, edit. 1641. Some account of Tun- 
 stall will be found at p. 20. post. 
 
against Tindall."\ Sir T. More. xcix 
 
 the church ; and whither the Apostles left ought 
 unwritten that is of necessite to be beleved." 
 " The Fourth booke : Whether the church can erre." 
 " The Fift Boke: of the Confutacion of Tyndale's 
 
 answere." 
 " The Sixt Boke : The defence of the first argument 
 
 agaynst Tyndall." 
 '* The vii. boke. Here begynneth the sevent booke 
 in defence of the second reason ; proovynge the 
 knowen catholyke churche to be the verye 
 churche of Chryste. Whiche seconde reason is, 
 that we know not which is that Scripture, but by 
 the knowen catholike church." 
 ". The eyght Booke ; in which is confuted doctour 
 
 Barnes church." 
 M The ix booke ; which is a recapi tulacion and 
 summary profe that the comon knowen catho- 
 lyke church is the verye true churche of Christ." 
 I have brought under one point of view the titles 
 of all those treatises which More wrote against Tin- 
 dall, and which fill upwards of 500 pages of 
 Tottel's closely printed edition of our author's works. 
 That More could have found leisure for such lucu- 
 brations, whatever his inclinations might have been, 
 is absolutely astonishing ! From the following speci- 
 men, the reader will not be disposed to give Sir 
 Thomas a very extraordinary share of praise; or to 
 become further acquainted with the subject matter 
 of the controversy. 
 
c Works of [Tracts^c. 
 
 " What availeth it to lay manifest holy scripture to 
 Tindall — that forceth so little, so manifestly to mock it ? 
 Tindall cryeth out that every man misconstrueth the scrip- 
 ture, and then himself, you see what construction he 
 maketh ! Saint Paul sayeth plainly that Timothy received 
 grace by the putting of his hands upon him. And Tindall 
 letteth not to tell him as plainly, nay ; and that he did but 
 stroke Timothy's head, and call him good son, by likeli- 
 hood, because he was but young. But howsoever Tindal 
 list to trifle, these places plainly reprove and convict his 
 heresy, and prove priesthood an holy sacrament. Now 
 falleth he to railing upon the holy ceremonies of priest- 
 hood, as shaving and anointing ! And first he saith, that if 
 only shaven and anointed may preach or consecrate the 
 sacrament, then Christ did them not ; nor none of his Apos- 
 tles; nor any man in long time after; for they used no 
 such ceremonies. 
 
 " This is a worthy jest, I promise you. If me listed 
 here to trifle as Tindall doth, I could ask him how he 
 proveth that Saint Peter was never shaven ? sith I suppose 
 he never saw him ; or, if he would put me to prove that he 
 was shaven, and therein when I could find no plain scrip- 
 ture for it, Tindall would not believe me, but if I brought 
 forth his barber : I might tell Tindall again that I were not 
 bounden, since the Scripture sheweth it not, to believe him 
 that St. Peter was ever christened, till Tindall bring forth 
 his godfather ! ! !" p. 439- 
 
 Our author very properly adds — " But these phan- 
 tasies of his and mine both go far from the 
 matter." 
 
Salem and Bizance.'] Sir T. More. ci 
 
 In the British Museum there is a copy of the 
 second book of the Confutation of Tindal, which 
 is rather of rare occurrence. 
 
 7. " The Apology of Syr Thomas More, knight, 
 
 made by him Anno 1533, after that he had given 
 over the office of Lord chauncellour of Englande." 
 This work commences at p. 845, and conclues at 
 p. 928, of Totlel's edition. It contains 50 chapters ; 
 and is written, occasionally, in a manly and ener- 
 getic, as well as in a pious and moving strain. 
 
 8. " The Debellacyon of Salem and Bi- 
 
 zance, by Syr Thomas More. Anno Domini, 
 1533. After he had gyven over the office of 
 lorde Chauncellour of Englande." 
 The " Declaration of the Title," may give the 
 reader some idea of the pleasure which our ancestors 
 took in quaint and metaphorical productions — whe- 
 ther in Romance or in Religion. 
 
 " The Declaration of the Title. 
 
 " The Debellation of Salem and Bizance, sometime two 
 great towns; which, being under the great Turk, were be- 
 tween Easter and Michaelmas last passed, this present year 
 of our lord, mdxxxiii, with a marvellous metamorphoses, 
 enchanted and turned into two Englishmen; by the won- 
 derful inventive wit and witchcraft of Sir John Some say 
 the Pacifier, and so by him conveyed hither in a dialogue, 
 to defend his division, against the apology of Sir Thomas 
 More. But now being thus, between the said Michaelmas 
 
cii Works of [dnswer 
 
 and Halowe'entide next ensuing, in this debellation van- 
 quished, they be fled hence and vanquished, and are be- 
 come two towns again, with those old names changed ; 
 Salem into Jerusalem ; and Bizance into Constantinople ; 
 the tone in Greece, the tother in Syria; where they 
 may see them that will, and win them that can. And if 
 the Pacifier convey them hither again, and ten such other 
 town with them, embattled in such dialogues, Sir Thomas 
 More hath undertaken to put himself in the adventure 
 alone against them all. But if he let them tarry still there 
 he will not utterly forswear it; but he is net much minded 
 as yet (age now so coming on, and waxing all unweildy) to 
 go thither and give the assault to such well walled towns, 
 without some such lusty company as shall be somewhat 
 likely to leap up a little more lightly." p. 929. 
 
 9. " The Answer to the first part of the poysoned 
 booke which a nameles heretike * hath named 
 " The Supper of the Lord." By Syr Thomas 
 More, Knight, Anno 153S. after he had geven 
 over the oflfyce of Lorde Chancellour of Eng- 
 lande." 
 
 This work, divided into fonr books, compre- 
 hends 1 IS pages of Tottel's edition. After p. 1 138, 
 
 * John Frith was this " nameles heretike." I have 
 reserved rather a copious account of him and his writ- 
 ings for my intended edition of " Ames's Typographical 
 Antiquities :" at present, it may be sufficient to remark that 
 the reader will find him mentioned in Hall's Chronicle, 
 edit. 1550. fol.225. ; Bale Illustr. Brit. edit. 1559. p. 657, 
 
to Frith.'] Sir T. More. ciii 
 
 where it ends, there should be an unnumbered 
 leaf, pointing out some errors which had escaped 
 
 658; and in Mr. Brydges's Cens. Liter, vol. iii. p. 45, 6. 
 Fox, in his Book of Martyrs, has given us some interest- 
 ing particulars relating to him and to Sir Thomas More ; 
 the latter of whom, he says, " persecuted him both by land 
 and sea, besetting all the ways and havens, yea and pro- 
 mising great rewards if any man could bring him any newes 
 or tydings of him." It seems that Frith was at first un- 
 willing to become a controversialist: a friend induced him 
 to commit his u Disputation upon the Sacrament," to writ- 
 ing — when one William Holt, a taylor, (as he is described 
 by Fox), obtained surreptitiously a copy of it, and brought 
 it to More—" who whetted his wits and called his spirits 
 together as much as hee might, meaning to refute his opi- 
 nion by a contrary booke," — " but when this booke [viz. 
 More's answer] was once set forth, and shewed unto the 
 world, then he [More] endevoured himself, all that he might, 
 to keepe it from printing, peradventure lest that any copy 
 thereof should come into Frith's hands." 
 
 More's answer to Frith was replied to by the latter " out 
 of prison — omitting nothing that any man could desire to 
 the perfect and absolute handling of the matter." Thus 
 far Fox; who does not mention another antagonist of Frith 
 of the name of Gwynneth, but whose work is noticed by 
 Herbert, in his edition of Ames, vol. iii. p. 1436. 
 
 Frith's Reply to More was first printed, I believe, 
 at Munster, towards the latter end of the year 1533. 
 The title begins thus, " A boke, made by John Fryth, 
 prysoner in the Tower of London, answerynge unto 
 
civ Works of [Dialogue 
 
 in the printing of u The debellacion of Salem and 
 Byzance." 
 
 10." ADyalogue of Comforte agaynsteTribula- 
 cyon,made in the yeare of our lorde, 1534, by Syr 
 Thomas More, knyghte, while he was prysoner 
 in the Tower of London, which he entitled 
 thus as followeth. " A Dyalogue of coumfort 
 agaynst tribulacion, made by an Hungarien in 
 laten, and translated oute of laten into frenche, 
 and oute of frenche into Englishe." 
 
 M. Mores letter, which he wrote agaynst the lytle trea- 
 tyse that John Fryth made concernynge the Sacra- 
 mente of the body and bloode of Christ, &c." It was 
 again printed in 1546 and 1547 — and twice in 1548; 
 the two latter editions by Seres and Jugge. The author 
 suffered at the stake, for his writings, on the 4th. day of 
 July, 1533. — " He was carried into Smithfield to be 
 burned, and when he was tied unto the stake, there it 
 sufficiently appeared with what constancy and courage he 
 suffered death." The sentence of condemnation passed 
 upon him, in his presence, concludes curiously enough. 
 " Also wee pronounce and declare thee to be an heretique, 
 to be cast out from the church, and left unto the judge- 
 ment to the secular power, and now presently so doe leave 
 thee unto the secular power, and their judgment : most 
 earnestly requiring them, in the bowels of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, that this execution and punishment, worthily to be 
 done upon thee, may be so moderate that the rigour thereof 
 be not too extreme, nor yet the gentlenesse too much miti- 
 gated, Sic."— Fox, vol. ii. 303—9- edit. 16*41. 
 
of Comfort.] Sir T. More. ct 
 
 This isjustly considered to be the most popular re- 
 ligious work of More. It is written in a calm, easy, 
 and impressive style, and will long outlive the original 
 polemical discussions of the translator. When the 
 first Latin, or the first English edition appeared, I am 
 uncertain : nor do I at present recollect whether there 
 was any reprint of it towards the middle of the seven- 
 teenth century. It was neatly printed in the black 
 letter, in a small octavo volume, at Antwerp, A. D. 
 1573. — "Newly set forthe, with many places restored 
 and corrected by conference of sundrie copies." 
 The dedication by the printer, John Fouler, to the 
 " Ladie Jane, Duchesse of Feria," and the preface 
 " To the Reader," give some (superficial) account of 
 the nature of the work. What renders this book 
 of some value to the curious is, the Portrait of More 
 on the leaf preceding the title of contents, which 
 seems to have escaped Granger, and which is pro- 
 bably among the earliest impressions of him extant. 
 Opposite, are six Latin and twelve rude English 
 verses by the printer, who styles himself, both here 
 and in the title page, ■" A native of Bristol." I have 
 a beautiful copy of this rare book. 
 
 The rt Dialogue of Comfort," written in three 
 books, commences at p. 1139, and ends at p. 1264, 
 of Tottel's edition. Two extracts from it are given 
 at pages 27 ( J— 347. 
 
 11. " ATreatice to receave the blessed Body of 
 our Lorde, sacramentally and virtually bothe, 
 
cvi Works of [ Sacra mcnt 
 
 made in the yeare of our Lorde, 1534, by Sir 
 Thomas More, knygthe, whyle he was prysoner 
 in the towre of London, which he entitled thus as 
 foloweth. To receave the blessed body of our 
 lorde, sacramentally and virtually both." 
 The following specimen, being the conclusion of 
 this very short treatise, shews with what earnest- 
 ness and piety the author could write — and seems to 
 justify the report of him, in his younger days, when 
 he gave lectures upon St. Austin De Civit. Dei, that, 
 " The Seniors and grave Divines were not ashamed 
 to learn divinity from so young a layman."* 
 
 Conclusion. 
 
 " Let us (good christian readers) receive him in such wise 
 as did the good publican Zacheus, which, when he longed 
 to see Christ, and because he was but of low stature, did 
 climb up into a tree : our Lord seeing his devotion, called 
 unto him, and said M Zachee, come off and come down, for 
 this day must I dwell with thee." And he made haste and 
 came down, and very gladly received him into his house. 
 But not only received him with a joy of a light and soon 
 sliding affection, but that it might well appear that he re- 
 ceived him with a sure earnest virtuous mind, he proved it 
 by his virtuous works, For he forthwith was contented to 
 make recompence to all men that he had wronged, and that 
 in a large manner, for every penny a groat : and yet offered 
 to give out also forthwith, the one half of all his substance 
 
 * Knight's Life of Colet, p. 30. 
 
and Passion.] Sir T. More. cvii 
 
 unto the poor men, and that forthwith also, by and by, 
 without any longer delay. And therefore he said not — 
 thou shalt hear that I shall give it; but he said, Lo, look 
 good Lord, the one half my goods I do give unto 
 poor men !" 
 
 " With such alacrity, with such quickness of spirit, with 
 such gladness, and such spiritual rejoicing, as this man re- 
 ceived our Lord into his house, our Lord give us the grace 
 to receive his blessed body and blood, his holy soul, and 
 his Almighty godhead both, in our bodies and into our 
 souls ! — that the fruit of our good works may bear witness 
 unto our conscience, that we receive him worthily, and in 
 such a full faith, and such a stable purpose of good living, 
 as we be bounden to do : and then shall God give a gra- 
 cious sentence and say upon our soul, as he said upon 
 Zacheus : Hodie salus facta est huic domui, " This day is 
 health and salvation come unto this house." Which that 
 holy blessed person of Christ, which we verily in the blessed 
 Sacrament receive, through the merit of his bitter passion 
 (whereof he hath ordained his own blessed body in that 
 blessed sacrament to be the memorial) vouchsafe, good 
 christian readers, to grant unto us all!" p. 126*9. 
 
 12. * ATreatice upon the Passion of Chryste, 
 
 (unfinished), made in the yere of our Lorde, J 534, 
 
 by Syr Thomas More, knyghte, while he was 
 
 prisoner in the Tower of London," &c. 
 
 This is an elaborate treatise,* extending from 
 
 p. 1270 to p. 1404 of Tottel's edition ; and shews in 
 
 * A fine passage from it is given at p. 350. vol. ii. 
 
cviti Works of [Prayers. 
 
 a very striking manner, how superior the author's 
 mind was to the miseries of captivity with which 
 he was surrounded. 
 
 13. Here folowe certein devout and vertuouse in- 
 strucions, Meditacions and Prayers made 
 and collected by Syr Thomas More, knight, while 
 he was prisoner in the towre of London." In 
 Latin and English. 
 
 From these two last publications, I present the 
 reader with the following specimens of More's 
 talents for the composition of Prayer. 
 
 PRAYERS. 
 " O glorious blessed Trinity, whose justice hath 
 damned * unto perpetual pain many proud rebellious 
 angels, whom thy goodness had created to be partners of 
 thine eternal glory — for thy tender mercy, plant in my 
 heart such meekness, that I so may by thy grace follow the 
 motion of my good angel, and so resist the proud sugges- 
 tions of those spiteful spirits that fell, as I may, through 
 the merits of thy bitter passion, be partner of thy bliss, with 
 those holy spirits that stood, and now confirmed by thy 
 grace, in glory shall stand for ever." p. 1273. 
 
 " Almighty God, that of thine infinite goodness didst 
 create our first parents in the state of innocency, with pre- 
 sent wealth and hope of heaven to come, till through the 
 devil's train their folly fell by sin to wretchedness, for thy 
 
 * Condemned. 
 
Prayers,'] Sir T. More. cix 
 
 tender pity of that passion that was paid for their and 
 our redemption, assist me so with thy gracious help, that 
 unto the subtle suggestions of the serpent I never so 
 incline the ears of mine heart, but that my reason may 
 resist them and master my sensuality and refrain me from 
 them." p. 1279- 
 
 " O holy blessed Saviour, Jesus Christ, which willingly 
 didst determine to die for man's sake, mollify mine hard 
 heart, and supple it so by grace, that through tender 
 compassion of thy bitter passion, I may be partner of thine 
 holy redemption." p. 1290. 
 
 " Good Lord give me the grace so to spend my life, that 
 when the day of my death shall come, though I feel pain 
 in my body, I may feel comfort in my soul: and with 
 faithful hope of thy mercy, in due love toward thee, and 
 charity toward the world, I may through thy grace, part 
 hence into thy glory." p. 1299. 
 
 "Omt sweet Saviour Christ, which thine undeserved 
 love toward mankind so kindly would suffer the painful 
 death of the cross, suffer me not to be cold or lukewarm in 
 love again toward thee." p. 1306, 
 
 Pater-noster, Ave Maria, Credo. 
 
 " O Holy Trinity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Ghost, three equal and co-eternal persons, and one Al- 
 mighty God, have mercy on me, vile, abject, abominable, 
 
ex Works of [Prayers. 
 
 sinful wretch: meekly knowledging before thine high 
 Majesty my long continued sinful life, even from my very 
 childhood hitherto. Now good gracious Lord, as thou 
 givest me thy grace to knowledge them, so give me thy 
 grace, not in only word, but in heart also, with very sor- 
 rowful contrition to repent them, and utterly to forsake 
 them. And forgive me those sins also, in which by mine 
 own default, through evil affections and evil custom, my 
 reason is with sensuality so blinded, that I cannot discern 
 them for sin. And illumine good Lord my heart, and 
 give me thy grace to know them, and to knowledge 
 them, and to knowledge them, and forgive me my sin 
 negligently forgotten, and bring them to my mind with 
 grace to be purely confessed of them." p. 1417* 
 
 For Friends. 
 11 Almighty God, have mercy on N. &c. with special 
 meditation and consideration of every friend, as godly af- 
 fection and occasion requireth." 
 
 For Enemies. 
 
 " Almighty God, have mercy on N. &c. and on all 
 that bear me evil, and would me harm ; and their faults 
 and mine together, by such easy, tender, and merciful 
 means as thine infinite wisdom best can devise, vouchsafe 
 to amend and redress — and make us saved souls in heaven 
 together, where we may ever live and love together with 
 thee and thy blessed Saints. O glorious Trinity, for the 
 bitter passion of our sweet Saviour Christ ! Amen." 
 
Letters.] Sir T. More. cxi 
 
 14. " Here folowe four Letters which Sir 
 Thomas More wrote after he had gyven over 
 the office of Lord Chancellour of England, and 
 before he was imprisoned." 
 
 The first, second, and fourth letters are written to 
 the Chancellor Cromwell ; the third to King Henry 
 VI If. of which 1 have carefully read the original, in 
 More's hand writing, among the Cotton MSS. in 
 the British Museum. 
 
 15. " Here folow certain Letters and other 
 thynges, which Syr Thomas More wrote while 
 he was prisoner in the towre of London." 
 
 These are the interesting family letters which have 
 found their way inlo almost every life of Sir Thomas. 
 They conclude the ponderous volume of Tottel, 
 which comprises not fewer than 1453 pages. The 
 Colophon is as follows : 
 
 " Imprinted at London, in Flete Strete, at the 
 
 Sygne of the Hand and Starre, at the 
 
 coste and charge of John Cawod, 
 
 John Walley, and Richarde 
 
 Tottle. Finished in Apryll, 
 
 the yere of our lorde God, 
 
 1557. 
 
 Cum Privilegio ad imprimendum solum. 
 
 Thus have I presented the reader with an analysis 
 of a book, not less remarkable for its rarity than for 
 its intrinsic value. If any apology be necessary for 
 
cxii Works of [Latin Works. 
 
 the length of it, I must shelter myself under the au- 
 thority of Dr. Johnson — who says, " Of the Works 
 of Sir Thomas More, it was necessary to give a 
 large[r] specimen, both because our language was 
 then in a great degree formed, and because it ap- 
 pears from Ben Jonson, that his works were con- 
 sidered as models of pure and elegant style, There is 
 another reason why the extracts from this author 
 are more copious ; his works are carefully and cor- 
 rectly printed, and may therefore be better trusted 
 than any other edition of the English books of that or 
 of the preceding age"* — Hist Eng. Language. 
 
 It remains only to add that the Latin Works of 
 Sir Thomas More, consisting of Epigrams, the 
 Ijtopia, a few letters, annotations on Lucian, &c. 
 were published at Basil, in 8vo. 1563 : at Louvain, 
 in fol. 1566, and at Frankfort on the Maine, and 
 Leipsic, in l68y, fol. This latter is a rare edition, 
 and is valuable inasmuch as it contains the Life of 
 Sir Thomas More, by Stapleton. — See Cayley's Life 
 of Sir T. M. vol. i. 275 ; where the contents of the 
 volume are specified. 
 
 * In the Duke de la Valliere's Catalogue, No. 4402, 
 there is said to be an edition of More's Works, printed by 
 Rastell, in 2 folio volumes, 1530. This error has been 
 transcribed in the Diet. Bibliogi . vol. ii. p. 272. 
 
[ cxiii ] 
 
 IV. ENGRAVED PORTRAITS OF SIRT. MORE. 
 
 Before I present the reader with a " Catalogue 
 raisonne" of the various Portraits* which have 
 been engraved of Sir Thomas More, it may be 
 proper to lay before him a description of his figure 
 and countenance, as they have been represented 
 to us by two unquestionable authorities — Erasmus, 
 and More's Great-Grandson. 
 
 *' If (says Mr. Macdiarmid-f-) some of the particu- 
 lars of Erasmus's description are so minute as to ex- 
 cite a smile, they, however, most forcibly shew the 
 high value which the writer entertained for More, and 
 the interest with which he observed the most trifling 
 circumstances connected with him." 
 
 Erasmus's Description of More's Person. 
 " To begin with what is least known to you of More, his 
 person is rather below than above the middle size, yet not 
 so much as to be at all remarked ; while so perfect is the 
 symmetry of all his limbs that no part seems capable of 
 improvement. His skin is fair, his complexion pale, yet in 
 
 * In the original plan of this " Introduction Biographi- 
 cal and Literary," the account of the ** Portraits of More" 
 was to have been omitted ; but a second reflection has con- 
 vinced me that it may be considered not the least in- 
 teresting part of this preliminary discussion. 
 
 t Lives of British Statesmen, p. 25. note. 
 
 P 
 
cxiv Portraits of 
 
 no respect sickly, but slightly tinged throughout with a deli- 
 cate transparent red; his hair chesnut ; his beard thin; his 
 eyes light grey, interspersed with some specks, a colour 
 which usually denotes a most happy disposition, and is even 
 accounted beautiful among the British; while among our 
 people (the Germans) black eyes are held in more esteem. 
 The former imagine such eyes to indicate a character par- 
 ticularly free fiom all manner of vice. His countenance, 
 completely corresponding with his disposition, is expressive 
 of an agreeable and friendly cheerfulness, with somewhat of 
 an habitual inclination to smile; and to own the truth, ap- 
 pears more adapted to pleasantry, than to gravity, or dig- 
 nity, although perfectly remote from vulgarity or silliness. 
 Owing to one of those bad habits of which when once ac- 
 quired it is so difficult to divest ourselves, his right shoulder 
 appears in walking somewhat higher than the left. In the 
 rest of his bo:ly there is nothing which offends the eye, only 
 that his hands are coarse, at least when compared with the 
 general delicacy of his frame." — Letter to Hutton. — 
 Erasm. Epist. 447. 
 
 Mote's Grtat-Grandson's description of Him. 
 
 " Sir Thomas was of a mean stature, well proportioned, 
 his complexion tending to phlegmatic, his colour white and 
 pale, his hair neither black nor yellow, but between both ; 
 his eyes grey, his countenance amiable and cheerful, his 
 voice neither big nor shrill, but speaking plainly and dis- 
 tinctly : it was not very tunable, though he delighted much 
 in music: his body reasonable healthful; only that, to- 
 wards his latter end, by using much writing, he complained 
 much of the ach of his breast." — Life, p. 364. 4to. edit. 
 
SirT. More. cxv 
 
 These descriptions, at once natural and vivid, 
 leave little doubt of the figure and countenance of 
 More. But, direct and forcible as they are, they 
 seem to have been little attended to by the greater 
 part of the " servile herd of imitators;" who have 
 metamorphosed the sagacity and benevolence of our 
 author's phisyognomy into expressions of stupidity 
 or hard-heartedness, Never, perhaps, has it fallen 
 to the lot of a human being to have his features so 
 tortured and perverted as More's have been. At 
 one time he is made to resemble a Turk ; at another 
 time, an Officer of the Inquisition. One artist de- 
 corates him with the robes of " Soliman the Great ;" 
 another takes care to put around him those of a 
 mountebank or a conjurer. Shaven or unshaven — 
 with a short or a long beard — we are still told it is Sir 
 Thomas More! In physiognomical expression, he 
 is as often made to represent the drivelling ideot, 
 as the consequential Lord Mayor ; and the immortal 
 name of Holbein is subscribed to portraits, of which 
 he not only never dreamt, but of which almost the 
 meanest of his successors, in this country, might have 
 been justly ashamed. Our subject, however, is En- 
 graving and not Painting. 
 
 In the following Catalogue, 1 have taken the liberty 
 of differing from the arrangement of Granger, and 
 of placing the portraits according to the order of 
 time in which I conceive them to have been exe- 
 cuted ; although, on this head, I beg leave to assure 
 
cxvi Portraits of 
 
 the reader that I do not speak with authoritative 
 decision. 
 
 It was not the good fortune of More to have his por- 
 trait engraved by either of his contemporaries, Al- 
 bert Durer, Marc Antonio, or Aldegrever.* 
 These artists never visited England ; and when 
 
 * The merits of these three artists are admirably appre- 
 ciated by Heinekin, Wattelet, Huber, and Mr. Landseer. 
 " Ne avec un heureux genie, (says the lively and scientific 
 Huber,) Durer surpassa bient6t, pour ne parler que de 
 la gravure en cuivre, tous les artistes dans ce genre par la 
 verite et la beaute de son travail. Sous sa main savantc 
 les progres de cet art nouveau furent rapides. II mettoit 
 plus de dexterite dans la coupe du cuivre, et plus d'aisauce 
 dans le maniement de l'outil. C'est encore a son esprit in- 
 dustrieux qu'on doit le perfectionnement de la gravure en 
 bois et en clair~obscur, dont on a un grand nombre de pieces. 
 Parmi les graveurs anterieurs ou contemporains d'Albert, 
 il y en a eu plusieurs qui se sont distingues, et dont les 
 estampes sont encore recherchees par les curieux; mais 
 aucun ne Va e"gale." Manuel des Amateurs de l'Art. torn, 
 i. p. 95. 6. Zurich, 1797- 8vo. 
 
 The chef-d'oeuvre of Durer is considered to be his St. 
 Hubert : an extraordinary performance ! of which fine 
 impressions are very rare, and sell high. I have a beautiful 
 impression of his " Mel an coli a,"* and the '* Death's 
 
 * I shall borrow Huber's accurate description of this 
 incomparable engraving, from his " Catalogue Raisonne' 
 du Cabinet d'Estampes de Winckler." " Figuree par une 
 
Sir T. More. cxvii 
 
 our author went abroad toCambray, it is probable that 
 his portrait had not been painted. For want, there- 
 fore, of such an accurate representation of him as 
 either of these artists would have executed, succeed- 
 ing engravers seem to have copied only from each 
 other; and, losing sight of the original of Hans Hol- 
 bein,* of course propagated error instead of truth. 
 
 Head" — on the latter of which Mr. Landseer has learnedly 
 expatiated in his " Lectures on the Art of Engraving," 
 p. 225, &c. 
 
 Heinekin describes only one portrait engraved by Marc 
 Antonio, which is of the poet Aretin — and which he calls 
 " la plus belle piece que M. Antoine ait faite." See his 
 Diction. desGraveurs, torn. i. 239. Leips. 1778. 8vo. 
 
 * It is not improbable, in the present age of indefatigable 
 research into every thing connected with ancient literature 
 and the fine arts, that some engraving of More may yet be 
 found with the name of Hans Holbein inscribed as the en- 
 graver. I incline to think that, like his great predecessor 
 Albert Durer, this artist engraved, as well as painted, many 
 things. Probably his masters were Altdorfer and his father 
 John Holbein. Papillon is copious and enthusiastic on the 
 
 femme ailee et largement drapee, tenant de la main droite 
 un compas, et soutenant sa tete de la main gauche. 
 Devant elle se voit un petit Genie aile, assis, et meditant sur 
 un livre. Les accessoires dans ce morceaux sont infinis et 
 rendus avec un proprete admirable. C'est cette piece que 
 Vasari nomme Vestampe incomparable ! En bas, vers la 
 droite, on appercoit le chifre et la date de 15 J 4. In fol." 
 Tom. i. pt. i. No. 1440. Leipzig, 8vo. 1802. 
 
cxviii Portraits of 
 
 No. 1. Thomas Morus Anglus. Anno iEtatis 
 
 50. Within an oval border. Stroke.* 
 This portrait has been noticed at page cv. 
 ante, as being probably among the most antient 
 impressions extant. It is executed on a leaf in 
 More's l< Dialogue of Comfort," printed at Antwerp 
 in 1573; and in the copy of this work which I 
 possess, it is inserted immediately preceding the 
 " Table of the Chapters." No Engraver's name. 
 Unknown to Granger and Bromley. 
 No. 2. Thomas Mqrds. Beneath the portrait, two 
 
 Latin verses — beginning ft Corporis effigiem 
 
 dedit." Stroke. 
 This is the portrait of More which is inserted in 
 Stapleton's Life of him, [vide p. xl. ante]. It is deli- 
 cately executed, although the attitude and drapery 
 are stiff. The left hand holds a scroll : the hands are 
 the best parts of the picture. The countenance has 
 no sort of resemblance to Holbein's portraits. 
 No. 3. Thomas Morus, quondam supremus totius 
 
 Angliae cancellarius Digniss. Anton. Wierx 
 
 fecit et excud. — Stroke. 
 
 engravings of H. Holbein. — See hisTraite Historique, &c. 
 de la Gravure en Bois, torn. i. \66, &c. Huber is more 
 rational and satisfactory. Manuel des Amateurs de l'Art, 
 torn. i. 152, &c. 
 
 *The words" Stroke, Stipling, Etching, and Mezzotint," 
 denote the different styles of engraving in which the por- 
 traits are executed. 
 
Sir T. More. cxix 
 
 A small print, about four inches in length, and 
 three square. It has the head and shoulders only, 
 and is very delicately executed. I consider it as 
 one of the principal portraits of More, as it was copied 
 for the Heroologia, and hence found its way, on a 
 reduced or enlarged scale, into a variety of publica- 
 tions. Of its resemblance to the Original, I enter- 
 tain strong doubts — or whether, indeed, it was ever 
 engraved from a painting by Hans Holbein. A 
 beautiful impression of it is in the Cracherode Col- 
 lection. 
 
 Some of the engravings of the Wierxes [John, 
 Jerom, and Antony,] have an exquisite enamel 
 effect; and their small figures, in which they de- 
 lighted, are frequently drawn with surprising anato- 
 mical accuracy 
 No. 4. Thomas Morus, Anglus. Four Latin 
 
 verses beneath, beginning '* An memorem doctum 
 
 magis." — No Engraver's name, but supposed to 
 
 be engraved by P. Galle. — Stroke. 
 More is here represented with a scroll in his right 
 hand — ermined robes, without the chain — a cap with 
 an upright front, like the covering which is upon 
 the head engraved by Vorsterman. The countenance 
 is long, bony, and harsh, and quite unlike what 
 I conceive to be a legitimate portrait of More. 
 Unknown to Granger and Bromley. 
 No. 5. Thomas Morus Cancellarius Anglic: 
 
 Within a semicircle, ornamented with a bird at 
 
cxx Portraits of 
 
 each corner of the plate. An open book and 
 
 tablet are beneath, with a candlestick and pair 
 
 of snuffers between. On the tablet is inscribed, 
 
 " Nascitur Anglia, Obtruncatur, 7 Jullij, Anno 
 
 1535." At the bottom, two Latin verses beginning 
 
 " Singultantem animam Mori." — Stroke. 
 
 From Boissard's " Bibliotheca Chalcographia Viror. 
 
 Illustr." A book of considerable scarcity and value, 
 
 and of which De Bure [No. 6107.] notices only the 
 
 first edition of 1597. It was republished in 1628, 
 
 and is rarely found with all the parts complete. 
 
 As this engraving seems, in the countenance, 
 drapery, and attitude, to be an exact copy of 
 Galle's, I have placed it as No. 5. It is undoubtedly 
 an ancient one. The letter B. is in the back ground, 
 and Vu. at the end of the Latin verses. Slightly 
 noticed by Granger. 
 
 No. 6. " The true Portraicture of Sir Thomas 
 
 More, sometymes Lord Chanceloure of England, 
 
 famous for letters, He died Anno, 1535. R, 
 
 Elstracke, sculp. — Stroke. 
 
 This portrait, which seems to have been unknown 
 
 to Strutt, is rather rare. It is executed within an oval, 
 
 — around which is the following inscription : * Vera 
 
 effigies Thomae Mori quondam totius Angliae Can- 
 
 cellarii Dignissimi, Etc." At top, the crest is on the 
 
 left, the arms on the right, of the oval — with the 
 
 inscription " Disce Mori mundi, Vivere disce Deo/' 
 
Sir T. More. cxxi 
 
 between. The left hand of More holds the cord 
 and tassels attached to the Chancellor's Seal — with 
 a ring on the fore-finger, which is pointing in a stiff 
 direction. The right hand holds a parchment roll. 
 The costume of the head dress and robes, and the 
 expression of the countenance, differ a little from the 
 other portraits — and has served in some degree as 
 a model to the one prefixed to the present edition 
 of the Utopia. Granger has slightly noticed El- 
 stracke's engraving of More's portrait. 
 
 There was a very indifferent copy of this print 
 " to be sold by Compton Holland, over against the 
 Exchange." 
 
 No. 7. Thomas Morus Quondam Supremus Totius 
 Angliae Cancellarius Digniss. With two Latin 
 verses beneath, beginning ** Hie est Hie Thomas." 
 From the Heroologia. The Cypher, A. B. 
 subjoined. Stroke and Stippling. 
 
 This head, as well as Vorsterman's, [though they 
 are dissimilar from each other] served as a model for 
 succeeding engravers, and was considered an ac- 
 curate resemblance of Sir Thomas. The features 
 are large, the expression is saturnine, the face long 
 and bony, the cap high, upon a black cowl. The 
 countenance is in the stippling, the robes and back- 
 ground in the stroke, manner of engraving. There 
 is a strong characteristic effect about it. 
 
 q 
 
cxxii Portraits of 
 
 No. 8. " Effigies THOMiE Mori, Supremi quondam 
 
 Anglia, Cancellarij Quam ad vivum expressam. 
 
 Stroke.— A. D. 1621. 
 A small half length, executed with remarkable 
 delicacy. The costume of the dress, and the arms 
 and hands, seem to be an exact copy of Elstracke's 
 — the great seal is omitted. Beneath is a dedica- 
 tion to Christopher de Blocquerie, Chancelior and 
 Archdeacon in " Eccl. Leodiensi," with his arms as 
 a Cardinal. At the bottom, it appears that it was 
 dedicated to him by Joannis Valdor, Anno Domini, 
 1621. Very rare; Unknown to Granger, and 
 slightly noticed by Bromley. A fine impression of 
 it is in the Cracherode Collection. 
 No. 9- Heroa cernis? Morus est: Fidei ille 
 
 Martyr optimse : Keimelaion seeculi sui, &c. &c. 
 
 L. V. Lucas Forsterman, sculpsit. Stroke and 
 
 Stipling. H. Holbenius, pinxit. 
 
 This is, I believe, the first engraved portrait of 
 More to which the name of Hans Holbein is sub- 
 scribed as the painter. It is justly said by Granger 
 to be " very different from his other portraits :" so 
 much so, indeed, as to excite a suspicion in my 
 mind whether Holbein ever painted it. The uncer- 
 tainty attending the legitimate portraits of More by 
 Holbein, which is amply discussed by the late Lord 
 Orford (Anecd. of Painting), renders it rather pro- 
 bable that this was not painted by him, especially as 
 
Sir T. More. cxxiii 
 
 itdiffers so much from the other portraits, and in some 
 respects, from the costume of the age. More is here 
 represented with his right hand holding the end of 
 his beard ; his upper lip is unshaven, and his mouth 
 is nearly covered with the hair, which hangs down on 
 each side in the form of whiskers.* His left hand 
 holds a small book, divided by the forefinger: a 
 dog lies on a tablet before him. The cap on More's 
 head is smaller and shallower than the one usually 
 executed by artists, and the countenance is sterner 
 than we should conceive it to be from the descrip- 
 tion of Erasmus. The beard has a good deal in it of 
 the Jewish character. The date [miocxxxi.] is 
 subjoined to the Latin inscription beneath. 
 
 Whatever may be the deficiencies of this engrav- 
 ing, on the score of likeness, it is most admirably exe- 
 cuted by Vorsterman : " dans les estampes duquel," 
 (says Basan, in his Diet, des Graveurs, torn. ii. 546.) 
 
 * This portrait is, however, described as one of Hol- 
 bein's by Huber, in his " Notice des Graveurs," p. 447. 
 
 The length of beard alone is not conclusive evidence of 
 its spuriousness : as we know that when More laid his head 
 upon the block, he pulled his beard aside, alleging that 
 that had not committed treason. Nevertheless a long 
 beard was not More's ordinary habit of dress. And yet it 
 must be remembered that, previously to his execution, he 
 was of necessity compelled to neglect his person — something 
 like King Edward II. in Berkeley Castle. But would Hol- 
 bein have painted him in this situation ? 
 
cxxiv Portraits of 
 
 " on trouve une maniere expressive, beaucoup d'in- 
 telligence, et un art admirable de rendre les etoffes, 
 ainsi que les diffe>entes masses de couleurs, &c. 
 The face and hands are in the stippling manner; 
 the robes and background, in the stroke or line. I 
 am in possession of a remarkably fine impression 
 of it. 
 
 This print was copied by numerous artists, with 
 various success, as will be presently noticed. 
 No. 10. Sir Thomas More. Within a small oval : 
 
 In the title to his Latin Epigrams, in 12mo. 1638. 
 
 Marshall, sc. Stroke. 
 So described by Granger and Bromley. It was 
 re-executed in 1639 for Alsop's edition of the Utopia, 
 in an engraved title page, with the figures of Mer- 
 cury, and a woman, crowning the oval, and the sub- 
 scription " Prudetitia, Eloquentia." This portrait is 
 a copy of No. 7. 
 No. 11. Thomas Morus — " Hac Mori Effigies, 
 
 &c." 4to. From Granger. 
 
 No. 12. A rudely executed head. A pen in the 
 
 right hand, with the point of it on an open book. 
 
 Stroke. No name subjoined. 
 This is executed, as I conceive, after that of No. 
 4. by P. Galle : the robes, and general expression of 
 the figure, being nearly the same. The ermine is 
 so managed as to represent the *' quills upon the 
 fretful porcupine." A still more miserably executed 
 portrait is the following one : 
 
Sir T. More. cxxv 
 
 No. 13 A fac simile in duod. of the same. Stroke. 
 No. 14. Thomas Morus ; a fictitious head, neatly 
 
 engraved by Gaywood, after Rembrandt ; 4to. 
 
 Etching. 
 Granger is right in calling this a fictitious head, for 
 it seems rather a resemblance of" the Grand Turk/' 
 than of Sir Thomas More. The head is shaven, 
 with a small black cowl upon the top of it. The 
 whiskers are curled. There is, however, great force 
 of light and shade in the engraving. This portrait 
 is not noticed by Walpole.* 
 
 No. 15. Thomas Morus. An oval of about five 
 inches long. Stroke. 
 
 This is a clumsily executed copy of the preceding. 
 It is not mentioned by Granger. 
 No. 16. Talis erat Morus, quern sors infida peremit. 
 Quod nollet Regi dicere blanda suo. 
 
 A very excellent etching, without Engraver's 
 name, and copied from No. 9. by Vorsterman; the 
 hands being reversed — the left under the beard, the 
 right opening the book. The dog is omitted. It 
 is about four inches long, and two and a half wide. 
 Rare ; and Unknown to Granger and Bromley. 
 
 * u Gaywood has not set his christian name at length 
 to one cf his prints : the letter R. being only prefixed. 
 Vertue says that to some of them he put " Quondam Dis- 
 cipulus Wen. Hollar."— Walpole's Cat. of Engr. p. QO. 
 
cxxvi Portraits of 
 
 No. 17. Thomas Mokus. An indifferently exe- 
 cuted copy of Vorsterman's, on a smaller scale, 
 by E. de Boulonois. Stroke. 
 Not mentioned by Granger or Bromley. 
 No. 18. Thomas Morus, Cancellier Van Engel- 
 lant. Stroke. 
 This is the head only of Vorsterman's portrait re- 
 executed, without the hand under the beard. The 
 plate is about a foot long, and seven inches wide. 
 There is some merit in the execution. Rare. Un- 
 known to Granger and Bromley. 
 No. 19. Thomas Morus. Within an oval, with 
 emblematical ornaments beneath. Stroke. 
 This also is a copy of Vorsterman's, with the right 
 hand under the beard. The dog lies on a monu- 
 ment, from which hangs the portrait of Holbein 
 on a kind of scroll. The axe, partly covered with a 
 black garment, lies at the bottom. This folio print 
 is badly executed. Unknown to Granger. 
 No. 20. Thomas Morus, Chancelier a" Anglettere, 
 &c. Grave par E. Desrochers. Four French 
 verses beneath. Stroke. 
 A wretched likeness of Sir Thomas ; who is made 
 large, athletic, and morose. It is an oval print. 
 Unknown to Granger and Bromley. 
 No. 21, Thomas Morus, in wood; with an orna- 
 mented border ; large Ato. a foreign print. 
 From Granger. 
 
Sir T. More. cxxvii 
 
 No. 22. Vera Effigies Thom^; Mori, Quondam 
 
 totitis AnglieeCancellarii Dignissimi, &c. Stroke. 
 A small oval print; the right hand upon the 
 Chancellor's seals, the left on the breast. The arms 
 beneath; with the date of More's birth and death 
 inscribed on each side. A contemptible perform- 
 ance ! 
 No. 23. Sir Thomas More, Lord Chancellor. 
 
 Stroke. 
 A very small oval — part of the seals seen within 
 it ; three-quarter face, squinting. Avery despicable 
 production. Executed for the Abridgement of Bur- 
 net's Hist, of the Reformation, 8vo. 1683. p. 1. It 
 faces an equally bad portrait of the Chancellor 
 Cromwell. 
 No. 24. Same inscription as No. 23, and a fac 
 
 simile of the portrait on a larger scale. R. White, 
 
 sculpsit. Stroke. 
 A very indifferent performance ; professed to be 
 from a painting of Hans Holbein ! 
 No. 25. Familia Thomje Mori, a Jo. Holbenio 
 
 delineata. Cochin, sc. Outline. 
 Oblong folio. Inserted at page 191 of" Tabella 
 Selectee ac Explicates a Carola Catharind Patina ,-" 
 a work published by Palin's widow, of which some 
 account is given in the note below.* This out- 
 line, which is called by Granger " very scarce," 
 
 * This work was published at Padua, in l6oi. " Ex 
 Typog. Seminarii." It has a picture of the Virgin and Child 
 
cxxviii Portraits of 
 
 appears to be a copy of the famous picture sent to 
 Erasmus by More, which is now preserved in the 
 Town Hall of Basil. It was copied by Holbein 
 from a picture which he had himself painted, and 
 which was latterly in the collection of the Lenthalls, 
 in Oxfordshire. 
 
 The impassioned manner in which Erasmus de- 
 scribes this painting to More's daughter, Margaret, 
 leaves little doubt of the correctness of the likenesses. 
 " I want words," says he, u to express to you my de- 
 light on contemplating the picture of your family 
 which Holbein has so happily executed. If I were 
 present with the originals, I could not have a more 
 accurate idea of them. I see you all before me, but 
 no one more strikingly than yourself — in whose 
 features shine those mental accomplishments, those 
 domestic virtues, which have rendered you the orna- 
 
 in the Frontispiece, indifferently engraved by Desbois, after 
 a painting by Guido. The greater part of the prints, forty 
 in number, are engraved by Cochin ; and among them there 
 is an etching, admirably executed by the same artist, of 
 Titian's celebrated picture of the Robber — now in the Na- 
 tional Collection at Paris, and considered by many connois- 
 seurs as the chef-d'oeuvre of the painter. The last plate in 
 the work is the handsome family of Patin, engraved by 
 Juster. Among the females, there is a countenance which 
 bears a strong resemblance to some of the early portraits of 
 Mrs. Siddons. Neither Granger nor Bromley have given 
 us any account of this amusing and rare volume. 
 
Sir T. More. cxxix 
 
 ment of your country and your age !" — Erasm. 
 Epist. (Marg. Roperae.) 
 
 This picture is divided into two groups. In the 
 foreground, to the right, are More's daughters, Mar- 
 garet and Cicely, kneeling — behind them, is their 
 mother-in-law, Alice, in the same position ; while 
 a marmoset is playing under the cushion before 
 her. The second group, a little retired, forms a line 
 extending almost from one end of the picture to the 
 other. In the centre of this line, sit More and his 
 father, with their hands enclosed under their sleeves. 
 John More, the son, and Henry Paten, are standing 
 the last in the group. Behind More and his father, 
 stands Ann Cresacre, in her 15th year, to whom 
 young More is supposed to be newly espoused. 
 Elizabeth, More's second daughter, and Margaret 
 Gigs (pointing to an open book,) stand the foremost 
 in this second group. In the back ground are a clock 
 and a violin against the wainscoat, and at a retired 
 distance, through an open door, near a window, ap- 
 pear two men in close conversation. 
 
 The original of this engraving seems to be a faith- 
 ful representation of a domestic scene in More's 
 family. For an account of its comparative merit 
 with De Mechel's copy of the same picture, see No. 
 S3, post. It is now very rare. 
 No. 26. Thomas Morus. M. B. (Michael Bur- 
 ghers,) sc. Stroke. 
 vol. i. r 
 
cxxx Portraits of 
 
 This print of More, which is unnoticed by Wal- 
 pole, ** was copied from an old print pasted before a 
 manuscript life of More, by Rooper, which belonged 
 to Mr. Murray of Sacomb, and which Mr. Hearne 
 esteemed a great curiosity, and supposed it to be the 
 first print of Sir Thomas that was done after his 
 death. Burgher's copy is prefixed to this book 
 which was published by Hearne." Granger, vol. i. 
 p. 103. ed. 1804. 
 No. 27. Thomas Morus. J'euspour un Roi cruel 
 
 trop peu de complaisance, fyc. followed by three 
 
 more verses. P. A. Gunst, sc. From a painting 
 
 of A. Vanderwerff. Stroke. 
 The legitimacy of this portrait may be questioned. 
 Vanderwerff, who was not born till upwards of a cen- 
 tury after More's death, must have copied it from the 
 same original, from which those of No. 3. and No. 
 7. were executed. More is here represented with 
 a stern large-featured countenance, and a figure 
 better calculated for a giant than one <( of mean 
 stature." 
 
 The portrait is within an oval, which rests on a 
 pedestal or basement, having a black piece of dra- 
 pery falling over More's arms. It is a very common 
 print. 
 No. 28. Familia THOMiE Mori. Copied by Vertue 
 
 from the outline of Cochin. No. 25. Stroke. 
 Small oblong quarto : executed for Dr. Knight's 
 
Sir T. More. cxxxi 
 
 Life of Erasmus, and usually inserted at p. 310 of 
 that work.* The curious should attend to the in- 
 sertion of this print, which is oftentimes missing, 
 and is sold for rather a high price separately. It 
 is a somewhat finished engraving, having the lights 
 and shades admitted ; but, upon the whole, it is indif- 
 ferently executed. Granger tells us that " the plate 
 of it is lost." 
 
 No. 29. Sir Thomas More, Knight, Lord Chan- 
 cellor of England. G. Fertue, sculp, from 
 Holbein. 
 This is the most common, and among the most 
 faithful copies of the original ; and whoever is in pos- 
 session of a fine impression of it, will be convinced 
 that Vertue has even improved upon his head of 
 Erasmus, executed for Dr. Knight's life of him. 
 The best part of the portrait is the countenance ; and 
 of this, the eyes and mouth — which are very suc- 
 cessfully managed The drapery and back ground 
 
 * As Dr. Knight's Life of Erasmus is daily becoming 
 very scarce, it may be proper to inform the reader that 
 " A List of the Cuts," is inserted at the back of p. xxxi. 
 of the Introduction. Of these cuts, the heads of Erasmus 
 Froben, Sir H. Guildford, Bishop Fox, King Henry VIII. 
 and Cardinal Wolsey, are greatly the better ones. How 
 More's head came to be omitted, as so much is said of 
 him in the life, is unaccountable. There are some few 
 copies of this work (which sell at an extravagant price) 
 struck off on large paper. 
 
cxxxii Portraits of 
 
 are, as usual, the worst parts of the picture : hard and 
 brassy! Vertue 13 certainly a very unequal artist; but 
 in the portrait line of engraving, he has eminently be- 
 nefitted his country. His fidelity is unimpeachable ; 
 and as he had access to originals, many of which are 
 probably now lost, his works will always have a due 
 value fixed on them by the judicious collector. Who- 
 ever calls to mind his Sir William Temple, Sir Ralph 
 Winwood, and Dr. Fiddes, need not require further 
 evidence of the powers of his graver to do justice to 
 courtly elegance, unblemished integrity, and mascu- 
 line sense. 
 
 I am ready, however, to admit that his Women are 
 almost invariably harsh and repulsive ; and that, if 
 he had laboured for a century, he would never have 
 produced that soft enchanting effect which Powle 
 accomplished in his head of Mademoiselle d' Hamil- 
 ton, in the Strawberry Hill edition of the Comte 
 de Grammont : nor did he possess any thing of that 
 tenderness and richness of execution, which have con- 
 ferred lasting celebrity on the Females of Strange. 
 To the dignified expression of Goltzius, and the ex- 
 quisite brilliancy of Edelinck, he was equally a 
 stranger. Vertue never " sprinkled divers pretty in- 
 ventions and capriccios" (as Evelyn says of Albert 
 Durer) throughout his works, but was content to 
 sacrifise sportive elegance to rigid fidelity. Some of 
 his Men, too, are unworthy of him ; especially the 
 portrait of Hearne — which seems to have been 
 
Sir T. More. cxxxiii 
 
 copied from the head of a ship, rather than from a 
 human being! But these are venial imperfections. 
 The many excellences of Vertue * shine through 
 the darkest veil which the most fastidious critic can 
 fix around him. 
 No. 30. Sir Thomas More. Engraved by Hou- 
 
 braken after a painting of Holbein, for Dr. 
 
 Birch's " Heads of Illustrious Persons," 1741. 
 
 Stroke. 
 The beauty of this engraving is sufficiently known, 
 but it has faults in the midst of its beauties. The 
 sagacity and shrewdness of More are exchanged for 
 an unmeaning softness ; and, like almost all the 
 men portraits of Houbraken, the male character is 
 lost in a certain effeminate expression. This is per- 
 haps, in a great degree, attributable to the smallness 
 
 * What Mr. Landseer says of Marc Antonio may be 
 well applied to Vertue. " His style possesses not the 
 exterior of oratory, but he pronounces every sentence so 
 distinctly; with a confidence so modest; that those who 
 attend are convinced without being persuaded. To speak 
 without a metaphor : there is something in his manner of 
 employing his graver — something dry, unambitious, unat- 
 tractive to the sense: which, by all sound critics, has been 
 thought to deserve praise without desiring it, and pecu- 
 liarly appropriate to the works of a painter, who not 
 merely does not require, but will not admit " the aid of 
 foreign ornament." Lectures on Engraving, p. 273. Lond. 
 8vo. 1807. 
 
cxxxiv Portraits of 
 
 of the eyes of Houbraken's heads, and to the soft 
 lustre by which they are distinguished : though in 
 " Konstchilders' De Groote Schouburgh" [1753. 
 3 vols. 8vo.], Houbraken has executed some male 
 portraits in a bold and truly masculine style. 
 
 Another fault of this engraving is, that it gives us 
 the idea of a larger man than More is described to 
 have been. The drapery and background are nearly 
 as hard as Vertue's. It has been frequently and 
 closely copied ; with what success, will be presently 
 shewn. 
 
 No. 31. Sir Thomas More. Within a broad- 
 framed oval. Stroke. 
 This forms the second plate in the second volume 
 of " British Biography; or an acccurate and 
 impartial account of the Lives and Writings of Emi- 
 nent Persons in Great Britain and Ireland, from 
 WicklifFe, &c. London, 8vo. mdcclxvi" — a publi- 
 cation, which deserves to be more generally perused. 
 I am uncertain whether it extends beyond the 
 third volume, which ends with the life of Sir Francis 
 Drake. The head of Sir Thomas More, of which it 
 is my business to speak, is a wretched copy of Hou- 
 braken's — indeed, almost all the plates prefixed to 
 these Lives, are sorry imitations of those in Dr. 
 Birch's splendid work. Unnoticed by Granger and 
 Bromley. 
 
 No. 32. Sir Thomas More. Tringham, sculp. 
 Stroke. 
 
Sir T. More. cxxxv 
 
 Within a fancied frame-work. A contemptible 
 
 copy of Houbraken's head, on a reduced scale. Not 
 
 mentioned by Granger or Bromley. 
 
 No. 33. Fa mili a Thomje Mori Ang li. Cancell. 
 
 Large oblong folio. Outline. C. de Meckel, sc. 
 
 et excudit. Basiliae 1787. 
 
 This scarce and well executed print is a copy of 
 the same painting which was engraved by Cochin; 
 for an account of which the reader will consult, 
 p. cxxvii. ante. 
 
 It appears to be a much more faithful representa- 
 tion of the original than Cochin's :* many of the 
 countenances have a different expression, and seem 
 strongly to partake of the accuracy of the original 
 likenesses. I suspect that Cochin suffered his outline 
 to be a little directed by the then prevailing notions of 
 fashion and taste. The present performance is exe- 
 
 * Among other proofs which might be adduced in con- 
 firmation of this remark, observe the countenance of 
 John Moor, the son of Sir Thomas! It has a very close 
 resemblance to the drawing of him by Holbein, which was 
 engraved by Bartolozzi for Mr. Chamberlaine's magnifi- 
 cent publication. In Cochin's outline, the countenance of 
 the son is distorted by being out of drawing ; and that of 
 Sir Thomas seems a little caricatured by an affected 
 sprightliness of expression. The countenances of the 
 women too, in Cochin's plate, want much of the natural air 
 and correct outline which distinguish those of De Mechel. 
 
cxxxvi Portraits of 
 
 cuted in a ruder, but in a more bold and artist-like 
 manner ; and the names of the different characters, 
 which are inscribed on the original painting, are 
 here transmitted to the plate — written in the hand- 
 writing of the times. This print was published 
 since the death of Granger, but it is unnoticed by 
 Bromley. 
 
 No. 34. Sir Thomas More. Grignion, sculp. 
 Stroke. 
 Within a circle-border. This is a very poor 
 effort of Grignion's graver. It is copied from Hou- 
 braken's head, but the chief similitude consists in 
 the cap, gown, and collar. 
 
 No. 35. Sir Thomas More. T. Holloway direxit. 
 Stroke. 
 
 From the sumptuous quarto edition of Lavater's 
 physiogonomy ; in which Mr. Holloway has fre- 
 frequently reached the topmost point of perfection in 
 the art of engraving. His " Julius Caesar," copied 
 in some degree from the bust in Dr. Clarke's magni- 
 ficent edition of the commentaries, has hardly been 
 equalled : it is beyond all praise. 
 
 The present portrait of More is well executed ; 
 but it never could have been intended for a faithful 
 one. Our author is here represented with a fat 
 jowl, bulbus nose, and frizzled wig — wholly dissimilar 
 to every preceding and subsequent portrait ! 
 
Sir T. More. cxxxvii 
 
 * N0.S6. Tho: Moor, Ld. Chancelour. Bartolozzi, 
 sculp. From Mr. Chamberlaine's publication of 
 the Holbein Drawings, in his Majesty's Col- 
 lection, 1793. Stipling. 
 Of all the portraits of More, this has probably the 
 strongest resemblance to the Original. Its exe- 
 cution, by Bartolozzi, is unrivalled. Sir Thomas 
 is however made, contrary to the usual descrip- 
 tion of him by his biographers, to " look frown- 
 ingly ;" but there is a shrewdness and sagacity about 
 the portrait, manifested by the keen retired eye, 
 protuberant nose, and thin lips. — This engraving, 
 which comprehends very little more than the shoul- 
 ders, is nearly as large as life; and though executed 
 with all the delicacy of the stipling department of 
 the art, it has a powerful effect upon the beholder. 
 ■ No. 37. Tho. Moor, Ld. Chancelour. R. Dalton, 
 fee. Etching. 
 A wretched copy of the preceding beautiful head 
 by Bartolozzi. The sagacious frown of More is 
 converted into an unmeaning smile; and the me- 
 chanical execution of the plate is feeble and 
 unartist-like. Printsellers sell it for a shilling or 
 two. 
 - No. 38. Familia Thoms Mori, Anglise Cancel- 
 larii. Small oblong folio. Aquatint. Basil, 
 A. D. 1794. 
 
 Although from the subscription, this print would 
 appear to have been executed at Basil, it is an 
 
cxxxviii Portraits of 
 
 English one; being a copy, on a reduced scale, of 
 the outline of More's family engraved by Christian 
 de Mechel. [See No. 33.] The light and shade is suc- 
 cessfully managed ; but the countenances of More 
 and his father are not only unlike, but a good deal 
 out of drawing. The women are the best executed ; 
 and yet the countenance of More's wife would indi- 
 cate that Gerard Dow, and not Holbein, had been its 
 designer. I never saw a copy of this print but the 
 one in the Cracherode Collection. 
 No. 39- Sir Thomas More. Freema7i,ac. Stip- 
 ling. 
 Prefixed to the " Lives of British Statesmen ;"* 
 and copied, on a reduced scale, from Houbraken's 
 portrait. This is a truly beautiful engraving, and, 
 in its style, by far the best representation of what 
 we should conceive the Original to have been. 
 Mr. Freeman is a justly rising artist : while his 
 graver can boast of such a head as that of Lord 
 
 * Mention is made of this work at p. lii. ante : since 
 writing that account of it, the author is no more ! " 
 fallacem hominum spem,fragilemfortunam, et inanes nostras 
 contentiones !" I knew not Mr. Macdiarmid personally : 
 " tantum vidi" — -but those to whom he was well known, 
 unite their testimonies in bestowing on him the praise of an 
 amiable and upright man, as well as of an elegant and vigo- 
 rous writer. Some account of him appeared in Dr. Aikin's 
 Athenaeum, vol. iii. p. 377- 
 
Sir T. More. cxxxix 
 
 Strafford (in the same work), he has little to 
 fear from the efforts of competitors. 
 « No. 40. " Your humble orator and moost bounden 
 
 bedeman, Thomas More." Engraved by 
 
 Philip Audinet, for Mr. Cayley's edition of 
 
 More's life. Stroke. 1808. 
 This engraving, which is professed to be copied 
 from a painting by Hans Holbein, is an imitation 
 of Houbraken's head. The mechanical part of it 
 is well done, but one could have wished to have seen 
 the locks of More not quite so formally curled. 
 No. 41. Sir Thomas More. Engraved by James 
 
 Hopwood, from an original by Holbein. Stip- 
 
 ling. 1808. 
 A sufficiently neat engraving; being a frontis- 
 piece to an edition of the Utopia, which is hereafter 
 noticed. It is copied from Mr. Freeman's; but the 
 features of Sir Thomas, and especially the nose, are 
 too large for the contour of the head. The figure is 
 too high up in the oval to give us the idea of a short 
 man, as was the original. 
 
[cxI] 
 
 V. EDITIONS OF THE UTOPIA. 
 
 # # # Those Editions, to which an Asterisk is affixed 
 to the date, thus, [*] are in my own possession. 
 
 [Circ. A. D. 1516.] 
 " Libellus vere aureus nee minus salutaris quam 
 festivus de optimo Reipublicse statu, deque nova In- 
 sula Utopia, authore clarissimo viro Thoma Moro, 
 inclytae civitatis Londinensis cive et vicecomite, 
 cura Petri iEgidii Antuerpiensis, et arte Theodorici 
 Martini Alustemis Typographi almae Louaniensium 
 Academiae nunc primum accuratissime editus. Cum 
 gratia et privilegio :" 4to. On the other side of 
 the leaf which contains the Title, is" Vtopise Insula; 
 Figura ;"* followed by « Vtopiensium Alphabetum. 
 — Tetrastichon vernacula Utopiensium lingua — et 
 Horum versuum ad verbum sententia. — Hexastichon 
 Anemolii Poete Laureati Hythlodei, &c. — Claris- 
 simo D. Hieronimo Buslidio Petrus iEgidius, S. D. 
 — Johannes Paludanus Cassitelensis, M. Petro iEgi- 
 dio, S. D. — Ejusdem Johannis Paludani in novam 
 Insulam Vtopiam Carmen. — Gerardus Noviomagus 
 de Vtopia, (i. e. Carmen). — Cornelius Grapheus ad 
 Lectorem, (Carmen.)— Hieronymus BuslidiusThomae 
 
 * A sort of View-map, without human figures. 
 
Editions, &c. cxli 
 
 Moro, S. D. — Praefatio in opus de optimo Reipublicae 
 statu, Thomas Morus Petro iEgidio, S. P. D." 
 These introductory pieces occupy the first twelve 
 pages of the book, which contains only fifty four 
 (unnumbered) leaves. The last page is filled with 
 the device of Theodore Martin. It is printed in the 
 roman letter, without marginal annotations. 
 
 Editio Princeps, on the authority of Panzer; 
 [vii. 26l.] who cites Baumgart-Nachr. 1, p. 541. sq. 
 Vonderhardt, 1. c. ii. p. 52. the latter of whom sup- 
 poses it to be printed in 1517. There is no date ex- 
 pressed in the title page ; and the above one, being 
 put within a parenthesis by Panzer, may be con- 
 sidered as doubtful. We may, however, draw 
 something like an accurate conclusion as to the 
 period of its publication, from the following circum- 
 stances. According to Peter Giles's letter to Buslidius, 
 dated Nov. 1516, it is evident that the former speaks 
 of an intended edition of Utopia — for he says, ", 1 
 know of nothing requisite to add to this narrative but 
 a metre of four verses, written in the Utopian tongue, 
 which Hythloday shewed me on the departure of 
 More: this, with the Utopian alphabet and some 
 marginal quotations, is all I have thought proper to 
 subjoin." Not a syllable is inserted of any printed 
 edition : the work, therefore, was most probably in 
 that state of MS. in which P. Giles describes it, at 
 the opening of his letter, to have been as ** sent to 
 him the other day by Sir Thomas More." Now, as 
 
cxlii Editions of [Latin. 
 
 Buslidius was provost at Arienum, it is barely pos- 
 sible for the work to have been printed at Lovain in 
 the month of December. 
 
 Another circumstance may be considered. In 
 Stapleton's life of More, p. 206. there is a letter from 
 More to Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, in 
 which the former observes that " his friend P. Giles 
 had thought the work deserving of publication, and 
 had caused it to be printed without his knowledge." 
 The date of this letter is not mentioned ; but we find 
 that it was written to the Archbishop on his resigna- 
 tion of the Chancellorship ; which took place, ac- 
 cording to Godwin,* in the year 1515. [Warham 
 was succeeded by Wolsey and More.] There is 
 Dothing in the letter which induces us to suppose it 
 was written immediately after the resignation, though 
 most probably it was not written later than 1516. It 
 is, however, worth while observing that Erasmus, in 
 his epistle to Froben, prefixed to the Basil edition 
 of 1518, and written in September, 1517, makes 
 no mention whatever of a printed edition of the 
 Utopia — a copy of which he sends his friend Froben, 
 as if it were to gain immortality from being printed 
 in his office. * Will it not," says he, " delight the 
 learned when it is known to have issued from the 
 press of Froben ?" 
 
 Upon the whole, although we should have natu- 
 
 * De Praesulibus Angliae, edit. Richardson, p. 135. 
 
Latin.'] the Utopia. cxliii 
 
 ralty expected the first edition of the Utopia to have 
 been printed at Antwerp, under the immediate super- 
 intendatice of Peter Giles, (as he resided in that 
 city), yet, on the authorities adduced by Panzer, 
 there is nothing improbable in its being first printed 
 by Theodore Martin, at Louvain, in 1517. 
 
 A copy of this very rare book is in the British 
 Museum, which was bequeathed to it by the late 
 Mr. Tyrwhitt; and another is in the extraordinary 
 collection of Mr. Heber. 
 
 A. D. 1518. [*] 
 " De Optimo Republican Statu, deque nova insula 
 Utopia, libellus vere aureus, nee minus salutaris 
 quam festivus, clarissimidisertissimique viriTHOMjE 
 Mori, inclytas civitatis Londinensis, civis et Vice- 
 comitis," with the Latin Epigrams of More and 
 Erasmus. At the end of Buslidius' Epistle to More, 
 p. 168. occurs the following subscription, " Basilea 
 apud Joannem Frobenium Mense Novembri, an. 
 m,d. xviii. At the end of the volume, p. 355, there 
 is the same subscription, with the substitution of the 
 word December. 
 
 Editio Princeps secunda. This is the second 
 edition of the Utopia, and may be now considered 
 a rare and curious volume. The title page is printed 
 within an engraved compartment of an arch, deco- 
 rated with winged boys, and wreaths of flowers. At 
 top, in the corners, are the words " Hans. Holb." 
 denoting, I conceive, this great artist to be the 
 
cxliv Editions of [Latin. 
 
 designer of the frontispiece. The printer's device, 
 of the hands grasping Mercury's Caduceus, is at 
 bottom. The same ornaments occur in the fourth 
 page of More's Epistle to Peter Giles, which pre- 
 cedes the first book of the Utopia. At the back of 
 the title page is the following epistle from Erasmus 
 to Froben. 
 " Erasmus Roterodamus Joanni Frobenio 
 
 compatri suo charissimo. s. d. 
 " Cum antehac omnia Mori mei mihi supra modum 
 semper pi acuer in t, tamen ipse meojudicio nonnihil 
 diffidebam, ob arctissimam inter nos amicitiam. 
 Caeterum ubi video doctos uno ore omneis meo sub- 
 scribere suffragio, ac vehementius etiam divinum 
 hominis ingenium suspicere, non quod plus anient, 
 sed quod plus cernant, serio plaudo mea3 sententiae, 
 nee verebor post hac quod sentio, palam eloqui. 
 Quid tandem non praestitisset admirabilis ista naturae 
 felicitas, si hoc ingenium instituisset Italia ? Si 
 to turn Musarum sacris vacaret, si ad justam frugem 
 ac velut autumnum suum maturuisset ? Epigram- 
 mata lusit adolescens admodum, ac pleraque puer. 
 Britanniam suam nunquam egressus est, nisi semel 
 atque iterum, principis sui nomine legatione fungens 
 apud Flandros. Praeter rem uxoriam, praeter curas 
 domesticas, praeter publici muneris functionem, et 
 causarum undas, tot tantisque regni negociis distra- 
 hitur, ut mireris esse ocium vel cogitandi de libris. 
 Proinde misimus ad te progymnasmata illius et Uto^ 
 
Latin.'] the Utopia. cxlv 
 
 piam, ut si videtur, tuis excusa typis, orbi posterita- 
 tique commendentur. Quando ea est tuae officinae 
 autoritas, ut liber vel hoc nomine placeat eruditis, si 
 cognitum sit e Frobenianis aedibus prodisse. Bene 
 vale cum Optimo socero, conjuge suavissima, ac mel- 
 clitissimis liberis. Erasmum filioluin mihi tecum 
 communem, inter literas natum, fac optimis literis 
 instituendum cures. Lovanij viii. Cal. Septem. 
 
 AN. M. D. XVII." 
 
 This address is succeeded by Budaeus's letter to 
 Lupsetus : after which (p. ] 1.) we have the following 
 " Hexastichon Anemolii Po^ete Laureati, 
 Hythlodai ex Sorore Nepotis in Utopiam Insulam. 
 Utopia priscis dicta, ob infrequentiam, 
 Nunc civitatis aemula Platonics, 
 Fortasse victrix (nam quod ilia literis 
 Delineavit, hoc ego una praestiti 
 Viris et opibus, optimisque legibus) 
 Eutopia merito sum vocanda nomine. 
 On the reverse of this page is a wood cut of a bird's 
 eye view or" Utopia, with three human figures at 
 bottom ; two of which have been exactly copied 
 in this edition for the head-piece to the f Pro- 
 logue :" these I conjecture to be More and Hyth- 
 loday. The Utopian Alphabet, with a " Tetrasti- 
 chon Vernacula Utopiensium Lingua" faces this 
 wood cut. Then follows Peter Giles's letter to Bus- 
 lidius, which is dated Nov. 1516. At page 17 com- 
 mences More's letter to Peter Giles, within a com- 
 partment similar to that of the frontispiece; and at 
 t 
 
cxlvi Editions of [Latin. 
 
 p. 25, with a vignette similar to the second one in 
 this edition (from which indeed it was in part 
 copied), commences the Romance of the Utopia, 
 which terminates at p. 162 ; the remainder being 
 occupied with the Epigrams of More and Erasmus. I 
 suspect that all the engraved and typographical 
 ornaments of the book were designed by Holbein. 
 The frontispieces to More's and Erasmus's Epigrams 
 are very elegantly executed, especially the latter. 
 The engraver's mark is a V, in the midst of a volute 
 or curl, like a G ; which, from Christ's Diet, des 
 Monogrammes, [edit. 1750. p. 281.] I suppose to 
 stand for Von Goar. 
 
 This second edition of More's Utopia, though by 
 no means executed in the best style of Froben's 
 press, is, notwithstanding, rather an elegant volume, 
 and is faithfully printed. It is briefly described by 
 Maittaire, vol. ii. 323, and by Panzer, vol. vi. 205; 
 which latter refers to Gesner, 1. c. p. 80. Thott. vii. 
 p. 211. Bibl. P. Nor: Bibl. Schw. jun: Bibl. 
 Dilherr. and to his own collection. 
 
 A. D. 1519. 
 "Thoms Mori de optimo Reipublicae statu, deque 
 nova Insula Utopia libellus. Epigrammata ple- 
 raque e graeco versa. Item Desiderii Erasmi 
 Roterodami Epigrammata. Vienna Pannonia 
 per Joannem Singreniutn. 4to. 1519. 
 This is noticed by Panzer, on the authority of 
 Denis, 1. c. p. 204. It is probably a reprint of the 
 Basil edition. 
 
Latin.'] the Utopia. cxlvii 
 
 A. D. 1548. 
 " De Optimo Reipub. Statu, Deque nova Insula 
 Utopia, libellus vere aureus, nee minus salutaris 
 quam festivus, clarissimi disertissimique viri 
 Thom* Mori inclytae civitatis Londinensis 
 civis et Vicecomitis. Lovanij, Excudebat Ser- 
 vatius Sassenus impensis viduae Arnoldi Birk- 
 manni. Anno Salutis, 1548. Mense Junio. 8vo. 
 At the back of the title page, there is a privilege 
 granted to the printer for the exclusive printing, sell- 
 ing, and distributing, of this work for the space of the 
 four following years. It is dated at Brussels, xx M ar. 
 M. D. xlvij, and signed Facuwez. This edition 
 seems to be a reprint of Froben's, for it is arranged 
 precisely in the same order, and contains the same 
 matter. Peter Giles's letter to Buslidius, More's to 
 Giles, and the two books of the Utopia, are printed in 
 italics: the remainder in the roman letter. On the 
 reverse of p. 181, (at the end) is a list of errata: 
 this is followed by a print of a man crowned with 
 laurels, grasping in h<s left hand a twisted snake, 
 and laying his right upon a lobster : between the 
 lobster and the man's body, there is this inscription, 
 within a square frame work — * Si Laxes erepit;" 
 — around the snake, " Si Stringas, erumpit."* 
 A part of a house is seen in the back ground. 
 
 * The same device appears in the title-page of Sassinus's 
 edition of " Damianus Goes, de Bello Cambaico ultimo 
 Comment. Tres. 1549. 4to. 
 
cxlviii Editions of [Latin. 
 
 The print is a curious one ; and as it is struck off 
 on a separate leaf, the purchaser should always see 
 that he is in possession of it. A copy of this edition 
 is in the British Museum. 
 
 A. D. 1555. 
 
 " De Optimo Reipub. Statu, Deque Nova Insula 
 Utopia, Libellus vere aureus, nee minus salutaris 
 quam festivus, clarissimi disertissimique viri 
 THOMiE Mori, inclytae civitatis Londinensis 
 civis et Vicecomitis. Colonise, Apud haeredes 
 Arnoldi Birckmanni, Anno M.D.LV. 8vo. With 
 Birckman's device of a cock supporting a tree, 
 surrounded with an ornamental frame : at bot- 
 tom " Arnold Birckman." 
 This edition is an exact reprint of the preceding, 
 
 both as to matter and manner. The italic letter is 
 
 larger and more elegantly formed, but the paper is 
 
 wretched. 
 
 A. D. 1563.[*] 
 
 " Utopije, Libri II." Printed as the first article of 
 the " Lucubrationes Mori" Basil, apud Epis- 
 copium F. 8vo. 1563. 
 
 This accurate edition comprehends the first one 
 hundred and sixty-four pages of the Basil edition of 
 our author's Lucubrations; and is, I believe, the 
 only octavo one of his minor Latin works complete. 
 It contains the usual pieces printed with the Utopia. 
 The Epigrams, Letters, &c. which comprise two 
 
Latin.] the Utopia. cxlix 
 
 thirds of the volume, are neatly printed in the italic 
 type. It is by no means a common book. Wood 
 erroneously calls it a quarto. Athen. Oxon. i. 39. 
 
 The Utopia was also reprinted in the Latin 
 Works of More published at Lou vain in 1566, and 
 at Frankfort on the Maine and Leipsic in 1689. 
 
 A. D. 1591. 
 " Libellus vere Aureus nee minus salutaris quam 
 festivus de optimo Reip. Statu, deq; nova Insula 
 Utopia, authore clariss. Viro Thoma Moro, in- 
 clytae civitatis Londinensis cive et vicecomite, 
 cura M. Petri iEgidii, Antuerpiensis, et arte 
 Theod. Martini Alustensis, Typographi almae 
 Lovaniensium Academiae, nunc primum accura- 
 tissime editus. — Witebergae ex Off. Cratonianse, 
 anno 1591." 8vo. 
 
 The editor seems to have taken some pains to 
 render his edition as accurate as possible. It con- 
 tains the usual introductory matter, and, in point of 
 correctness, may rank after the Basil edition of 
 1563. 
 
 A. D. 1601. 
 " Illustris Viri Thoma Mori Regni Britan. Cancel. 
 De Optimo RuipuBLiciE Statu, Deque Nova 
 Insula Utopia, Libri Duo: Scriptum vere aureum, 
 nee minus salutare, quam festivum, quod ex 
 Erasmi Koterodami, Gulielmi Budaei, aliorumq. 
 
cl Editions of {Latin. 
 
 magnorum virorum eommendationibus, quae 
 Epistolis praefixis continentur, liquidum dubitan- 
 tibus evadet. Nunc tandem bibliotapbis sub- 
 reptum, et in gratiam politicorum, consilio et 
 cura Magnifici Eberarti foot! t©ethe t illustriss. ac 
 potentiss. Pr. ac. Dom. Dn. Mauritio, Hessiae 
 Landgravio, &c.a consiliis editum. Francofurti: 
 Ex Officina Saurii mdci. !2mo. 
 This elaborate title page sufficiently explains the 
 contents of the edition. It has the usual introduc- 
 tory pieces, and is printed in a large and handsome 
 type, upon very indifferent paper. The text, as 
 far as I have found it necessary to consult it, does 
 credit to the accuracy of the editor. 
 
 A. D. 161S. 
 rl Illustris viri Thomae Mori, Regni Britanniarum 
 Cancellarii, De optimo Reipublicae Statu, De- 
 que Nova Insula Utopia, Libri Duo: Scrip- 
 turn vere aureum, nee minus salutare, &c. 
 Hanoviae ; Typis J. J. Hennei; sumptibus Petri 
 Kopffij, mdcxiii. 12mo. 
 This wretchedly printed, but accurate, edition con- 
 tains the usual epistles of More, Budaeus, Buslidius, 
 and Giles. — The type of the text is something like 
 Foulis's : the paper gives it a wretched aspect. 
 A copy of it is in the British Museum, which was 
 once Frederick Lindenbrog's — " Ex t«» Friderici 
 Lindenbrogij" being inscribed on the inside of the 
 cover. 
 
Latin.] the Utopia. cli 
 
 A. D. 1629- 
 ** Thom je Mori Utopia, a mendis vindicata, et juxta 
 Indicem libror. expurgat. Card, et Arcliiesp. To- 
 letani correcta. Coloniae Agrippina; apud Corn, 
 ab Egmond et Socios, anno ] 629- S2mo." Within 
 an elegantly engraved compartment, with three 
 female figures of Plenty, Justice, and Peace, 
 sitting beneath — as the title-page. 
 
 This diminutive pocket edition contains the usual 
 epistles of More, Giles, Buslide, and Lupset, with 
 an additional one from J. Palludanus of Cassel, to 
 Peter Giles — in which the English are thus compli- 
 mented. u Felicem Britanniam ! quae nunc ejus- 
 modi floreat ingeniis, ut cum ipsa possent cum anti- 
 quitate certare. Nos stupidos ac plus quam plumbeos, 
 si ne tarn vicinis quidem exemplis ad earn laudem 
 capessendam expergefieri possumus." Towards the 
 conclusion of his letter, Palludanus wishes that " the 
 Utopians would receive our religion, in return for the 
 ideas of legislation which we have derived from 
 them — " That might be accomplished [continues he, 
 gravely,] if some of our most famous theologians 
 would make a voyage thither !" After mentioning 
 that he had almost entirely deserted the Muses, he 
 ventures on the following verses : 
 
 u In novam lnsulam Utopiam." 
 Fortes Roma dedit, dedit et laudata disertos 
 Graecia, frugales inclyta Sparta dedit. 
 
clii Editions of [Latin. 
 
 Massilia integros dedit, at Germania duros 
 
 Comes, ac lepidos Attica terra dedit. 
 Gallia clara pios, quondam dedit Africa cautos, 
 
 Munificos olim terra Britannia dedit. 
 Virtutum ex aliis aliarum exempla petuntur 
 
 Gentibus, et quod huic desit, huic superat. 
 Una semel totam summam totius honesti 
 
 Insula terrigenis Utopian a dedit. 
 
 This curious little edition contains 266 pages, and 
 as it is one of the few castrated editions, it may be 
 valued by the collector. A copy is in the British 
 Museum. 
 
 A. D. J 663. [ # ] 
 " Thom.se Mori Utopia, a Mendis vindicata. Oxonii 
 Typis W. Hall. Impensis Fran. Oxlad. Anno 
 1663. 32mo. 
 
 This little pocket volume contains, with the 
 usual introductory pieces, the preface of Froben, and 
 the epistle and verses of Palludanus. The Romance 
 concludes at page 264. The type, though small, is 
 sufficiently distinct — which makes it a very pleasant 
 " Post-chaise companion," as Dr. Harwood some 
 where styles an edition of an ancient classic. 
 
 A. D. 1750. [*] 
 
 " De Optimo Reipublicae Statu, Deque Nova Insula 
 
 Utopia, Libri II. AuctoreTHOMA MoRO,Equite, 
 
 Angliae Cancellario. Ex prioribuseditionibus col- 
 
 latis accurate expressi. Glasgua, in Mdibus 
 
Italian.} the Utopia. cliii 
 
 Academicis Excudebant Robertas et Andreas 
 
 Foulis, mdccl." 8vo. 
 This edition is the most common Latin one extant. 
 It is executed in the usual elegant and accurate style 
 of Foulis's press, and contains, at the beginning and 
 end, the letters which generally accompany the Ro- 
 mance. The text of the Utopia is printed in a large 
 and distinct type; of the Letters , in a smaller one. I 
 never saw, nor heard of, a copy of this work on large 
 paper. It is the only Latin edition of the Utopia 
 which French bibliographers have noticed. Diet. 
 Bibliograph. t. n. p. 272. edit. 1790. 
 
 This account of the Latin editions, although far 
 from being perfect, (for many were circulated abroad 
 which have probably never reached this country,) 
 may be considered sufficiently ample to direct the 
 collector in the choice of the leading publications 
 of the Utopia in the Latin language. 
 
 Italian. 
 A. D. 1548. 
 La Republica Nuovamente Ritrovata, del Governo 
 dell' Isola Eutopia, nella qual si vede nuovi modi 
 di govern are Stati, reggier Popoli, dar Leggi a i 
 Senatori, con molta profondita di sapienza, 
 storia nomeno utile che necessaria. Opera di 
 
cliv Editions of [Italian. 
 
 Thomaso Moro Cittadino di Londra. In Vinegia, 
 mdxlviii." 12mo. 
 With the device of an elegant female, turning to 
 the left, and looking through a mask— her robes 
 floating in the wind : she is seated on a kind of rock, 
 from which a slender branch vegetates, and partly 
 encircles her — harmonizing very gracefully with the 
 attitude. This forms the title-page. At the second 
 leaf begins an epistle, (from the translator, I suppose,) 
 " A\ Gentilissimo M. Gieronimo Fava," which occu- 
 pies three pages. — The table of the chapters, into 
 which the ten books of Utopia are divided, begins at 
 fol. 4, and ends at fol. 5. There are fifty-three chap- 
 ters : the greater part, especially of the first book, 
 quite unnecessary. More's letter to Giles begins at 
 fol. 6: of which the following may probably be con- 
 sidered a fair specimen of the translation. 
 
 " Hora levati via tai pensieri ne i quai faceva mes- 
 tieri sudare d' avantaggio, ageuolmente poievasi scri- 
 vere, si come era statu udita. Benche It mie altre 
 emprese m' hano lasciato pochissimo tempo a fornire 
 cost leggiera cosa, trattando, udendo, deter?ninando, 
 e giudicando io assiduamente le cause delforo, visitando 
 hor questo per benignitd e mio debito, hor quello per 
 eseguire lefacede importanti : ejinalmente dispensando 
 fuori quasi tutto il giorno, et il rimanente per le mie 
 cosejamigliari, non lascio a me cioe a le lettere tempo 
 alcuno. Perche ritornato che sono a casa, mi bisogna 
 ragionare con la moglie, gridari con iJigliuoli,parlare 
 
Italian.] the Utopia. civ 
 
 con i ministri. Tutte It quai cose io annovero tra It 
 imprtse, necessarie in vero, non volendo tsser ne la casa 
 propria come for estieri. Perchedobbiamo esstr benigni 
 verso coloroy che o per natura, d a caso, o per nostra 
 elettiont ci sono stati dati compagni nelvivere. Purche 
 con la troppa btnignitd non si corrompa la disciplina 
 e che iservinon diventino patroni. Tra quest i travagli 
 passu il giorno, il mese, e Vanno. A I qual tempo adun- 
 que scrivo ? Non hoparlato del tempo, che si consuma 
 nel mangiare, e nel dormire, che occupa quasi la meta 
 de la vita, fyc." 
 
 This epistle ends at fol. 8. (for the book is num- 
 bered by leaves). At fol. 9 the Romance begins, 
 and terminates at fol. 60 — which concludes the 
 volume : the only epistle introduced, being that of 
 More to Giles. 
 
 This edition is, in every respect, a bibliographical 
 bijou : the press-work, italic type, and paper, being 
 beautiful of their kind. No printer's name is sub- 
 joined, but the type has a resemblance to some of the 
 best specimens of Aldus and Plantin. It is slightly 
 mentioned by Wood, and is noticed in the new edi- 
 tion of Haym's Biblioteca Italiana, [Milan, 8vo. 
 1803] Pt. IV. p. 51, No. 3, where the translation is 
 assigned to Doni. A copy is in the British Museum. 
 
clvi Editions of {French, 
 
 French. 
 
 A. D. 1550. 
 
 " La Description de l'Jsle dTJtopie, oil est comprins 
 
 Le Miroer des Rebublicques du monde,et l'exera- 
 
 plaire de vie heureuse : redige" par escript en stille 
 
 treselegant de grand' haultesse et rnaieste par 
 
 illustre bon et scavant personnage Thomas 
 
 Morus citoye de Londre et chacelier d'Angle- 
 
 terre. Avec l'Epistre liminaire composee par 
 
 Monsieur Bude maistre des requestes du feu Roy 
 
 Francoys premier de ce nom. Avec privilege — 
 
 A vendre, &c. en la Bouticque de Charles l'Anglier 
 
 devant la Chapelle de Messieurs les Presidens." 
 
 1550. 8vo. 
 
 Premiere Edition Franchise. On the back 
 
 of the title-page is the privilege granted to the printer 
 
 for the three following years exclusive sale — signed 
 
 Du Tiller, and dated 154Q. The epistle of Budajus 
 
 comes next in order. At folio 1, (for the book 
 
 is numbered by leaves,) opposite some verses of the 
 
 translator, (which succeed Budaeus's epistle,) we have 
 
 a well executed wood-cut, in which Hythlodaeus is 
 
 represented as reciting his narrative to More, Giles, 
 
 and Clement — all of them in the Roman costume. 
 
 At p. 2 the first book of the Romance commences, 
 
 with a wood-cut of More in proBle, sitting in his 
 
 study, composing the work. This cut is repeated at 
 
 the commencement of the second book. The second 
 
 book is divided into chapters, (something in the man- 
 
French.] The Utopia. clvii 
 
 ner of this present edition,) with wood-cuts at the 
 head of each. These cuts, all of them in the Roman 
 costume, are well executed; the greater part are re- 
 peated. At fol. 105 the Romance concludes. On 
 the next leaf there is a sort of colophon, by which 
 it appears that J eh an Le Blond was the translator : 
 at the back, is his address to the reader — in which, 
 after craving pardon for errors committed, he thus 
 concludes — " En sorte que si nous n'usios que de 
 termes vulgaires et communz a chascun, nostre langue 
 nen enrich iroit d'un flocquet, et fauldroit tousiours 
 faire comme les tabellions et notaires, qui en leurs 
 actes ne chagent ne muent de stille." Opposite, 
 there is another address to the reader, which is fol- 
 lowed by a table of the chapters and of general mat- 
 ter. A leaf of errata, with the bookseller's device 
 neatly executed on the reverse, concludes this rare 
 and curious volume. A copy of it is in the British 
 Museum, and one occurs in the Cat. de la Valliere, 
 No. 1346. 
 
 A. D. 1715—17SO. 
 " Idee d'une Republique Heureuse: ou l'Utopie de 
 Thomas Moru s, Chancelier d'Angleterre. Con- 
 tenant le Plan d'une Republique dont les Loix, 
 les Usages, et les Coutumes tendent uniquement a 
 rendre heureuses les Societez qui les suivront. 
 Traduite en Francois par M. Gueudeville, et 
 enrichie de Figures en Taille-douce. Leide, 1715, 
 12mo, Amsterdam, 1730, 12mo. 
 
clviii Editions of [French. 
 
 These elegant little editions, of which the second 
 seems to differ # from the first only in having a fresh 
 title-page struckoff, are now becoming rather rare, and 
 sought after. An engraved frontispiece of a female 
 holding an oval portrait of More in the left hand, 
 and the Roman Fasces in the right, &c. &c. faces the 
 title page. — The translator's Epistle to Henry Duke of 
 Saxe — his Preface, sufficiently flourishing (in which 
 he takes no notice of the preceding ancient French 
 edition) — More's Letter to Giles — the Life of More — 
 the Letters of Erasmus to Froben — of Budaeus to 
 Lupset — of Buslidius to More — of Giles to Buslidius 
 — of Palludanusto Giles, with verses, &c. all precede 
 the Romance, which occupies 348 distinct pages ; 
 an excellent " Table des Matieres" of 16 pages 
 concludes the volume. 
 
 These editions are rendered very amusing from 
 the sixteen elegant plates (exclusive of the frontis- 
 piece) which accompany them. The thirteenth, 
 descriptive of the introduction of the intended bride 
 and bridegroom, is oftentimes missing. w Comme 
 les figures (says the translator, at the end of his pre- 
 face) sont a la mode, et qu'elles font plaisir a un 
 certain genre de Lecteurs, l'lmprimeur, qui n'epargne 
 rien pour ses impressions, et dont le principal but 
 
 * In the title-page of the first edition, after the 
 word " uniquement," it is said — " ii faire aux societes 
 humaines le passage de la vie dans toute la douceur ima- 
 ginable." 
 
English.'] the Utopia. clix 
 
 est de se conformer au gout du Public, a eu soin d'en 
 embellir son Utopie. Les Tailles-douces representent 
 les sujets les plus interessans du Livre." Of the 
 merits of the translation, which Mons. Gueudeville 
 tells us is not very exact,* the reader must himself be 
 thejudge, from the numerous specimens of it inserted 
 in the notes of the present edition. A copy of the 
 first edition occurs in Gaignat's Catalogue, No. 907. 
 
 English. 
 
 A.D. 1551. 
 u A fruteful and pleasaunt worke of the beste state of 
 a publyque weale, and of the newe yle called 
 Utopia: written in Latine by Syr Thomas 
 More knyght, and translated into Englyshe by 
 Raphe Robynson, Citizein and Goldsmythe of 
 London, at the procurement, and earnest request 
 of George Tadlowe Citezein and Haberdassher 
 of the same Citie. Imprinted at London by 
 Abraham Vele, dwelling in Paul's churcheyarde, 
 at the sygne of the Lambe. Anno, 1551." 8vo. 
 Black Letter. 
 
 * " Au reste, on ne doit pas s'attacher ici a une Tra- 
 duction exacte, et qui ne fabse que rendre precisement le 
 sens de l'auteur. J'aveitis d'avance, que je ne me suis 
 point arrete a ce scrupule la : j'ai souvent etendu l'idee," 
 &c. ! ! Pref. p. xv. 
 
clx Editions of [English. 
 
 First English Edition. The title-page is 
 immediately followed by the translator's epistle 
 f To the right honourable, and his verie singuler 
 good maister, Maister William Cecylle, 
 esquiere, one of the twoo principal secretaries to the 
 kyng his moste excellent maiestie, Raphe Robyn- 
 son wissheth continuance of health, with dayly in- 
 crease of vertue, and honoure." At p. 5 of this 
 epistle, we have the following history of the transla- 
 tion. u But nowe I feare greatly that in this my 
 simple translation, through my rudenes and igno- 
 raunce in our english tonge, all t'ie grace and plea- 
 sure of the eloquence, wherewith the matter in 
 latine is finely set forth, may seme to be utterly 
 excluded, and lost: and therefore the fruteful- 
 nes of the matter it selfe muche perad venture 
 diminished and appayred. For who knoweth not, 
 whiche knoweth any thyng, that an eloqent styele 
 setteth forth and highly commendeth a meane 
 matter ? Where as on the other side, rude and un- 
 learned speche defaceth and disgraceth a very good 
 matter. According as I harde ones a wise man say : 
 A good tale evel tolde were better untold, and an 
 evell tale well tolde nedeth none other sollicitour. 
 This thing I well pondering and wayinge with me self, 
 and also knowing and knowledging the barbarous 
 rudenes of my translation was fully determined never 
 to have put it forth in printe, had it not bene for 
 certein frendes of myne, and especially one, whom 
 
English.] the Utopia. clxi 
 
 above al other I regarded, a man of sage and dis- 
 cret witte, and in worldly matters by long use well 
 experienced, whoes name is George Tadlowe : an 
 honest citizein of London, and in the same citie 
 well accepted, and of good reputation ; at whoes 
 request and instaunce I first toke upon my weake 
 and feble sholders the heavie and weightie bour- 
 dein of this great enterprice. This man with divers 
 other, but this man chiefely (for he was able to do 
 more with me, then any other) after that I had ones 
 rudely brought the worke to an ende, ceassed not by 
 al meanes possible continualy to assault me, until 
 he had at the laste, what by the force of his pitthie 
 argumentes and strong reasons, and what by hys 
 authority, so persuaded me, that he caused me to 
 agree and consente to the impryntynge herof. He 
 therefore, as the chiefe persuadour, must take upon 
 him the daunger, whyche upon this bolde and rashe 
 enterpryse, shall ensue. I, as I suppose, am herin 
 clerely acquytte, and discharged of all blame." 
 
 This epistle (from which the preceding is a faithful 
 extract) is followed by More's letter to Peter Giles. 
 Then commences the first page of the Utopia, 
 of which, for the gratification of the black-letter bib- 
 liographer, the following is as close an imitation as 
 could be given with the types of the present day. 
 
clxii 
 
 Editions of 
 
 [English. 
 
 CC&etyrtte 
 
 bofce of ti)e communpca 
 
 cion of ftapljaell fjptbjooape concer* 
 
 npnge tb,e be£t state of a commen 
 
 toealtjje. 
 
 le moste bpcto* 
 rpou£ anD trpum* 
 pb,ante ftpnge of 
 €nglanoe %nrp 
 t|je igf)t of tljat 
 name in all ropal 
 oertueg prince 
 moSte pecrie^^e, 
 ijaooe of late in contraoergie toith. tlje 
 rigljt t)P9t)C ano mpgbtie kins of £&$* 
 tell toeigbtpe matters ano of greate 
 importaunce, for tjje oebatement 
 $ final Determination toljerof ttie 
 Hinged l&aiegt. Sent me SmbaSSa* 
 oout into flaunoerS ioineo in com* 
 minion toitf) <£utVjcbert Cunstall a 
 man ooubteles otote of comparison, 
 ano inborn tfje hinged maieStie of late 
 to tb,e greate ceiopSpng of all men trio 
 pref erre to tye office of master of tl)e 
 ftolles ; but of tbpS mans prapses % 
 %. i. toill 
 
English.'] the Utopia. clxiii 
 
 This first English edition is neatly printed 
 with a handsome margin. It has signatures and 
 catchwords, but the pages are not numbered. It 
 ends on the leaf following S iij. 
 
 £hu£ ended) the aftemoneg talfte 
 
 of ftaohaeU ^tfjlooape eon 
 
 cerning the Iatoe£ ano in* 
 
 gtttutiong of the gjlano 
 
 of Utopia. 
 
 C 3fatprmte& at ionlron 
 
 bp Abraham ^ele, otoellinQ in $aulg 
 
 ctureijeparOe at the stygne of 
 
 the Eambe* anno, 
 
 1551. 
 
 There is no copy of this curious and rare perform- 
 ance in the Bodelian Library, nor in the British Mu- 
 seum. Mr. Heber is in possession of one from the 
 Bibl. Brand. No. 4241 ; and another is in the magnifi- 
 cent library of the Marquis of Bute, at Luton. It was 
 unknown to Antony Wood, and to the editors of 
 Bayle's General Dictionary, vol. vii. fol. 1737, (who 
 have very inaccurately described the early transla- 
 tions of the Utopia). All our Lexicographers have 
 omitted to notice it, although it is one of the best 
 specimens extant of our language at the period 
 when it was written.* 
 
 * Of Raphe Robinson, the translator, I had once 
 supposed that he might have been the same individual of 
 
clxiv Editions of [English. 
 
 The supposition of Burnet, that " Sir Thomas him- 
 self had probably a hand in this translation," appears 
 tome to be unfounded — whatever adventitious value 
 it may stamp upon the edition. Rastell, the editor 
 of M ore's English works, would have insinuated 
 some such thing — and arguing from " similarity of 
 style "(as Burnet does) is arguing from no correct 
 datum — for, what one critic thinks similar, another 
 may think dissimilar. 
 
 whom Mr. Douce, at the latter end of his dissertation " On 
 the Gesta Iiomanorum," makes such particular mention: 
 but from the date of his entrance at Corp. Christ. College, 
 Oxford, (as communicated to me by my friend, the Rev. 
 Mr. Glitch) this seems barely possible — " Radulphus Ro- 
 bynson quindecim ann. cetat. &c. Discipulus admiss. 
 1536— Schol. Prob. admiss. 1542." This fixes the birth 
 of Ralph Robinson in 1521 — a person bom at this early 
 period could not be the individual to write numerous de- 
 dications with facility in l601-2. See Mr. Douce's " II- 
 " lustration of Shakspeaie, and of Ancient Manners," 
 Vol. II. 423-4, &c. Antony Wood and Tanner give us a 
 very unsatisfactory account of Robinson. 1 presume that 
 the three letters among theLansdowne MSS. in the British 
 Museum, (viz. I. from Ralph Robinson, a certain clerk, to 
 Sir William Cecil, for the increase of his salary, May 1551 : 
 II. a Latin copy of verses by Ralph Robinson, being his 
 new year's gift, to Sir William Cecil: III. a Latin peti- 
 tion of R. R. to Sir W.C. to relieve his poverty, 1551,) are 
 composed by the same individual who made this first trans- 
 lation of the Utopia. 
 
English.] the Utopia. clxv 
 
 A. D. 1556. [*] 
 "A frutefull pleasaunt and witlie worke, of the beste 
 state of a publiqne weale, and of the newe yle, 
 called Utopia; written in Latine by the right 
 worthie and famous Syr Thomas More, knyght, 
 and translated into Englishe by Raphe Robyn- 
 son, sometime fellowe of Corpus Christi College 
 in Oxford, and nowe by him at this seconde edi- 
 tion newlie perused and corrected, and also with 
 divers notes in the margent augmented. Im- 
 printed at London by Abraham File, dwe Hinge 
 in Paul's church yarde, at the signe of the Lambe. 
 8vo. Black letter. 
 
 " The Translator to the gentle Reader. 
 "Thou shalt understande, gentle reader, that 
 thoughe this worke of Utopia in English, come now 
 the seconde tyme fourth in print, yet was it never 
 my minde nor intente that it shouldeever ha\e bene 
 imprinted at all, as who for no such purpose toke 
 upon me at the firste the translation thereof: but did 
 it onlye at the request of a frende, for his owne pri- 
 vate use, upon hope that he wolde have kept it secrete 
 to hymself alone. Whom, though I knew to be a 
 man in dede, both very wittie and also skilful, yet 
 was I certen that in the knowledge of the Latin 
 tonge he was not so well sene, as to be hable to 
 judge of the finenes or coursenes of my translation. 
 
 " Wherefore I wente the more sleightlye through 
 with it, propoundynge to myselfe therein, rather to 
 
clxvi Editions of [English. 
 
 please my sayde frendesjudgemente, then myne owne. 
 To the meanesse of whose learninge I thoughte it 
 my part to submit, and attemper my stile. Lightlie 
 therefore I overran the whole woorke, and in shorte 
 tyme, with more hast then good spede, I brought it 
 to an ende. But as the latin proverbe sayeth : " The 
 hastye bitche bringeth furth blind whelpes" — For 
 when this my worke was finished, the rudeness thereof 
 shewed it to be done in poste haste. How be it, 
 rude and base though it were, yet fortune so ruled 
 the matter that to imprintinge it came, and that 
 partly against my wyll. Howbeit, not beinge liable 
 in this behalfe to resist the pitthie persuasions of my 
 frendes, and perceaving therefore none other remedy, 
 but that furth it shoulde : I comforted myselfe for 
 the tyme, only with this notable saying of Terence: 
 
 Ita vita est hominum, quasi quum ludas tesseris. 
 Si Mud, quod est maxume opus, iactu non cadit : 
 Illud, quod cecidit forte, id arte ut corrigas. 
 
 In which verses the poete likeneth or compareth 
 the life of man to a dice plaiying or a game at the 
 tables ; meanynge therin, if that chaunce rise not 
 whiche is most for the plaiers advauntage, that then 
 the chaunce, which fortune bathe sent, ought so con- 
 nyngly to be played, as may be to the plaiers least 
 dammage. By the which worthie similitude, surely 
 the wittie poete geveth us to understande that though 
 
English ] the Utopia. clxvii 
 
 in any of our actes and doynges, (as it ofte chaunceth) 
 we happen to faile and inisse of our good pretensed 
 purpose, so that the successe and our intent prove 
 thinges fane odde ; yet so we ought with wittie cir- 
 cumspection to handle the matter, that no evyll or 
 incommoditie, as farre furth as may be, and as in us 
 lieth, do thereof ensue. 
 
 " According to the whiche counsell, though I am 
 in dede in comparison of an experte gamester and a 
 conning player, but a verye bungler, yet have I in 
 this by chaunce, that on my side unwares hath 
 fallen, so (I suppose) behaved myself, that, as doubt- 
 les it might have bene of me much more conningly 
 handled, had I forethought so much, or doubted any 
 such sequele at the beginninge of my plaie : so I am 
 suer it had bene much worse than it is, if I had not 
 in the endc loked somwhat earnestlye to my game. 
 For though this worke came not from me so fine, 
 so perfecte, and so exact at the first, as surely for 
 my small lerning it should have done, if I had then 
 ment the publishing therof in print; yet I trust 1 
 have now, in this seconde edition, taken about it 
 such paines, that very fewe great faultes and notable 
 errours are in it to be founde. Now therefore, most 
 gentle reader, the meanesse of this simple translation, 
 and the faultes that be therein (as I feare muche 
 there be some) I doubt not, but thou wilt, in just con- 
 sideration of the premisses, gentlye and favourablye 
 winke at them. So doynge thou shalt minister 
 
clxviii Editions of [English. 
 
 unto me good cause to thinke my labour 
 
 and paynes herein not altogether 
 
 bestowed in vaine. 
 
 Vale." 
 
 This address is followed by More's epistle to Peter 
 Giles, as in the preceding edition. The text of the 
 Romance commences at sign. B ii ; and at fol. 182. it 
 concludes. After this we have Peter Giles's letter to 
 Buslidius, and three pages of Utopian metres. On 
 the last leaf is the following address from 
 " The Printer to the Reader. 
 
 " The Utopian alphabete, good Reader, whiche in 
 the above written Epistle is promised, hereunto I 
 have not now adioyned, because I have not as yet 
 the true characters or fourmes of the Utopian let- 
 ters. And no marveill : seying it is a tongue to us 
 muche straunger then the Indian, the Persian, the 
 Syrian, the Arabicke,the Egyptian, the Macedonian, 
 the Sclavonian, the Ciprian, the Scythian, 8tc. which 
 tongues though they be nothing so straunge among 
 us, as the Utopian is, yet their characters we have 
 not. But I trust, God willing, at the next impres- 
 sion hereof, to perfourme that,which nowe I cannot; 
 that is to saye, to exhibite perfectly unto thee, the 
 Utopian alphabete. In the meane time accept my 
 good wyl. And so fare well. 
 
 Imprinted at London in Paules Churcheyarde, at 
 thesygneof the Lambe, by Abraham Veale, m.d.lvi." 
 
 This small octavo volume is printed with a larger 
 
English, .] the Utopia. clxix 
 
 type than the preceding edition, but not in so ele- 
 gant a manner. The paper and press-work are both 
 inferior. Herbert says it was reprinted in the fol- 
 lowing year, (1557) but I suspect that he was led 
 into this error by A. Wood, who was ignorant of the 
 present edition. The following one, by Creede, is 
 expressly called in the title-page, the " third." The 
 punctuation of this edition is preferable to that of 
 the preceding one ; the phraseology rarely varies. 
 There is a copy of it, bound up with the original 
 Latin one, in the library of Corpus Christi College, 
 Oxford, which probably was Robinson's own copy. 
 I am in possession of one which was obtained from 
 Mr. Reed's library, No. 2637. 
 
 A.D. 1597. [ # ] 
 " A most pleasant, fruitful!, and wittie worke, of 
 the best state of a publique weale, and of the new 
 Yle called Vtopia ; written in Latine, by the right 
 worthie and famous Syr Thomas Moore, Knyght: 
 and translated into English by Raphe Robinson, 
 sometime fellow of Corpus Christi Colledge in 
 Oxford. And now this third edition, newly cor- 
 rected and amended. London, printed by Thomas 
 Creede, 1597, 4to. 
 The title-page is immediately succeeded by More's 
 epistle to Giles; and at the conclusion of the Utopia 
 is Giles's letter to Buslidius, which is followed by 
 specimens of the Utopian language, as in the pre- 
 ceding edition. The work concludes at sign. T. 
 
 y 
 
clxx Editions of [English. 
 
 It is a thin and indifferently printed volume. A 
 copy of it is in the library of the Royal Institution, 
 and another in that of Mr. Heber. See also the 
 Catalogue of Mr. Constable, the bookseller, of Edin- 
 burgh, No. 2157. 
 
 A. D. 1624.[*] 
 " Sir Thomas Moore's Vtopia : Containing an 
 excellent, learned, wittie, and pleasant discourse 
 of the best state of a publike Weale, as it 
 is found in the Gouernment of the new ile 
 called Vtopia. First written in Latine, by the 
 Right Honourable and worthy of all fame, Sir 
 Thomas Moore, Knight, Lord Chauncellour of 
 England. And translated into English by 
 Raphe Robinson, sometime Fellow of Corpus 
 Christi Coliege, in Oxford. And now after 
 many impressions, newly corrected, and purged 
 of all errors hapned in the former editions. 
 London : Printed by Bern ard Alsop, dwelling 
 in DistafFe lane, at the Signe of the Dolphin. 
 4to. 1624. 
 On the second leaf begins the following Dedica- 
 tion. 
 
 " To the Honourable descended Gentleman, Cres- 
 acre More, of More Place, in North Mimes, 
 in the Countie of Hertford, Esquire ; next in 
 Bloud to Sir Thomas More, Lord Chauncellour 
 of England, and Heire to the auncient Familie of 
 
English."} the Utopia. clxxi 
 
 the Cresacres, sometime Lords of the Mannor of 
 
 Bamorough, in the countie of Yorke, in the time 
 
 ©f Edward the first. 
 
 Howsoeutr (in these wretched dates) the dedication 
 of Bookes is growne into a wretched respect ; because 
 the Inducements looke a wrie, sometimes from vertue, 
 pointing at ostentation, (which is grosse) or at Jiat- 
 terie, (which is more base) or else at gaine, which is 
 the most sordid oj all other : yet (worthy Sir) I be- 
 seech you be pleased better to conceive of this present : 
 for the inducements which have drawne me to this 
 boldnesse, cary (1 might say a noble, but I dare be 
 bold to say) an honest countenance ; to omit the ex- 
 cellence of the wor ke (yet unparaleled in that nature) 
 or the noble parts of the more excellent Author, 
 (whose remembrance is a myrror to all succeeding 
 Nobi/itie) both which might challenge Ccesar for a 
 patron ; yet when I look into your Honourable Pedi- 
 gree, and find you the undoubted heire of his blood, me 
 thought it was a theft of the worst nature, to give to 
 another the inheritance of his virtue, and I might as 
 well take from you the lands of the honourable and an- 
 cient family of Cresacre (with which God and your 
 right hath endowed you), as bestow upon a stranger 
 this glorious Common wealth, to which your owne 
 bloud,your Auncestors virtue, and my dutie must ne- 
 cessarily intaile you : This consideration, when you 
 please to take to your memory, I doubt not but it will 
 
clxxii Editions of [English. 
 
 much lessen my presumption, and you will out of the 
 goodnesse of your owne virtue thinke, since it is my for- 
 tune to bestow upon him the new edition, I could not 
 with good manners, but bring him to kisse the hand of 
 his true owner, wishing that as this Book is eternall 
 for the virtue^ and shall live whilest any booke hath 
 being : so your name and goodnesse may continue 
 amongst us, ever flourishing and unwithered, so long as 
 the Sunne and Moone endureth : 
 
 Your worship's ever to be commanded, 
 
 BERNARD ALSO P." 
 
 The Epistle of More, and of Giles to " Buslyde," 
 follow this dedication. The Romance begins at 
 page 1, opposite the Utopian metres, and con- 
 cludes at p. 138. Then follow some verses of 
 ** Gerard Noviomage of Utopia," and of " Cornelius 
 Graphey to the Reader." For an account of the 
 merit of Alsop's editions, see the opinion at the 
 conclusion of the following one, by the same. 
 
 A. D. 1639- [*] 
 "The Common Wealth of Utopia, Containing a 
 Learned and pleasant Discourse of the best state 
 of a Publike Weale, as it is found in the govern- 
 ment of the New He, called Utopia. Written, 
 &c. London : Printed for Wil. Sheares, and are 
 to be sould at his Shop in Bedford Street, in 
 Coven-Garden, neere the New Exchange, 8vo. 
 1639." Alsop and Fawcet the printers. 
 
English.] the Utopia. clxxiii 
 
 The preceding title page is engraved under a 
 portrait of More, from Marshall — for account of 
 which see p. cxxiv. atue. The title is followed by 
 a Dedication to " Cresacre More," which the reader 
 will see prefixed to the first book, post. This edition, 
 " exactly done with applause," as Alsop styles it, is, 
 in truth, one of the most careless and erroneous 
 extant. It has every thing of Robinson's translation 
 but its accuracy ; and why it is so coveted by col- 
 lectors is absolutely inexplicable. The type, paper, 
 and text are equally wretched. The preceding 
 quarto edition ought not to escape from the greater 
 part of this censure. Alsop's editions of the Utopia 
 are "omnium inquinatissimae !" Antony Wood 
 notices only this octavo edition of Alsop. 
 
 A. D. 1684.[*] 
 " Utopia; Written in Latin by Sir Thomas More, 
 Chancellor of England : Translated into Eng- 
 lish. London ; Printed for Richard Chiswell, 
 at the Rose and Crown, in St. Paul's Church 
 Yard, mdclxxxiv. 8vo. 
 We now come to the celebrated translation of the 
 Utopia by Bishop Burnet — whose name is not 
 inserted in the title-page, but of whose being the 
 translator, there never yet was entertained a doubt. 
 His preface (of 11 unnumbered pages) immediately 
 succeeds the title — in the middle of which he thus 
 remarks: "This small volume which I now publish, 
 being writ by one of the greatest men that this island 
 
clxxiv Editions of [English. 
 
 has produced, seemed to me to contain so many 
 fine and well digested notions, that I thought it 
 might be no unkind nor ill entertainment to the na- 
 tion, to put a book in their hands, to which they have 
 so good a title, and which has a very common fate 
 upon it, to be more known and admired all the 
 world over, than here at home." He concludes thus, 
 — " As the translators of Plutarch's Heros, or of 
 Tullies Offices, are not concerned either in the 
 maxims, or in the actions that they relate ; so I, who 
 only tell, in the best English I can, what Sir Thomas 
 More writ in very elegant Latin, must leave his 
 thoughts and notions to the reader's censure, and do 
 think myself liable for nothing but the fidelity of the 
 translation, and the correctness of the English ; and 
 for that 1 can only say, that I have writ as carefully, 
 and as well as 1 can." 
 
 This edition contains only the preliminary letter 
 of More to Giles. The text of the Utopia concludes 
 the volume at p. 206. It is handsomely and accu- 
 rately printed. Of the spirit and correctness of the 
 translation, the reader will best judge from the parallel 
 passages of it with Robinson's, which are quoted in 
 the notes of the present edition. Upon the whole, 
 I give the preference to Robinson's translation; 
 although in the philosophical parts of the first book, 
 Burnet has evidently the advantage. Perhaps Robin- 
 son was not a thorough master of the original 
 Latin, or took less pleasure in those parts of the 
 
English.'] the Utopia. clxxv 
 
 work which relate to philosophical discussions 
 — however this may be, he has made ample amends 
 for occasional negligences, by the facility and rich- 
 ness of his style and expression, and by that air 
 of frankness and simplicity which gives to fiction 
 the appearance of truth. In Burnet's preface more is 
 promised than has been performed — and those 
 editors are rather complaisant than judicious, who 
 say that his work has fixed an jeba in the trans- 
 lations of the Utopia. 
 
 A. D. 1741 or 8. qu ? 
 This edition of the Utopia is noticed from a copy 
 of it which appears to have been in the late Mr. 
 Brand's library. As I have never seen it, I am 
 unable to state its contents. 
 
 A. D. 1751. 
 " Utopia : Containing an Impartial History of the 
 Manners, Customs, Polity, Government, &c. of 
 that Island. Written in Latin by Sir Thomas 
 More, Chancellor of England. And inter- 
 spersed with many important articles of Secret 
 History, relating to the State of the British 
 Nation. Translated into English by Gilbert 
 Burnet, late Bishop of Sarum. To this edi- 
 tion is added a short account of Sir Thomas 
 More's Life and Trial : and a Prayer made by 
 him while he was a Prisoner in the Tower. The 
 whole revised, corrected, and greatly improved, 
 by Thomas Williamson, Esq. Oxford, 
 
clxxvi Editions of [English. 
 
 Printed for J. Newbery, at the Bible and Sun, in 
 St. Paul's Church Yard, London, mdccli. 8vo." 
 This long title-page sufficiently explains the con- 
 tents of ihe edition. It begins with Burnet's pre- 
 face : the " Life" is comprised in eight pages : after 
 which follows More's letter to Giles. These pieces 
 comprehend the first twenty-five pages. The tl Trial" 
 and " Prayer," the eight following ones, are sepa- 
 rately numbered. The Epistles to Lupset and Bus- 
 liditis are injudiciously omitted. This is a neat and 
 rather common edition ; and in some places the 
 text is successfully amended. The Romance com- 
 prises 168 pages. 
 
 A. D. 1758. 
 
 " [The] History of Utopia, translated into Eng- 
 lish ; Describing the most perfect State of a 
 Common Wealth, in the Manners, Religion, and 
 Polity of that Island : With Notes, historical 
 and explanatory. By Fred. Warner, LL.D. 
 London : Printed for L. Davis and C. Reymers, 
 and J. Payne, m.dcc.lviii. 8vo." 
 Subjoined to the " Life of More/' of which some 
 account was given at page li. ante. Dr. Warner 
 was induced to publish this edition from the solicita- 
 tion of Mr. Justice Burnet, son of the Bishop, and a 
 great friend both of the editor and of Sir Robert 
 Henley, to whom the work is dedicated. In this 
 Dedication (p. xi.) Dr. Warner thus remarks : " The 
 Political Romance, my Lord, which fills up the 
 
English.'] the Utopia. clxxvii 
 
 remainder of the following sheets, has stood the test 
 of several ages as a master-piece of wit and fancy : 
 and if I have endeavoured to illustrate it in such a 
 manner, as to make it useful to my country, in times 
 of such degeneracy, that scarcely any thing but 
 works of wit and fancy are looked upon, your Lord- 
 ship will acknowledge that the design is laudable, how 
 much soever I may have failed in its execution." 
 
 Of the " Illustrations" of Dr. Warner, the reader 
 will judge for himself, from his notes — the whole of 
 which are incorporated in the present edition. They 
 relate rather to political reflections, than to historical 
 facts, and anecdotes of the manners and customs of 
 the times. This edition of the Utopia is, however, the 
 first careful and critical one which appeared in our 
 language; and if Dr. Warner had collated passages 
 with the early English and Latin editions, rather 
 than have implicitly adopted the phraseology of 
 Burnet, very little would have been wanting to the 
 representation of the pure text of the Utopia. The 
 " Life" comprehends the first 150 — the Romance, 
 the latter 230 pages of the book — the epistle of 
 More to Giles is only given. It is no uncommon 
 book. 
 
 A. D. 1808. 
 "A new Translation of the Utopia, &c. By Arthur 
 Cayley the younger, with the Life of King Richard 
 III. the Latin Poems of our author." 
 This edition forms the second volume of the" Me- 
 z 
 
clxxviii Editions of [English. 
 
 moirs of Sir Thomas More," for which see p. liii. 
 ante. Speaking of the celebrity of the Utopia, Mr. 
 Cayley thus observes : " It speedily gained him [Sir 
 T. M.] great applause over Europe; was translated 
 into French, Italian, Dutch, and English, and hath 
 now stood the test of nearly three centuries as a 
 masterpiece of wit and fancy. It hath, however, 
 experienced somewhat of a severe fale, in being 
 better known, and more admired abroad, than by 
 the author's own countrymen: a circumstance, which 
 may, in some measure, sanction its re-appearance in 
 an English dress of the day, though its merit is 
 greater than to allow of its deriving any advantage 
 by translation." Vol. I. 260. 
 
 That the reader may judge for himself of the 
 comparative merit of the translations of Mr. Cayley, 
 Bishop Burnet, and Ralph Robinson, I have reserved 
 for the note below * a specimen of the former — 
 
 * While there, among many who visited me, one person 
 was more agreeable to me than any other. It was .flLgidius, 
 born at Antwerp, a man of great honour, and of good rank 
 in his native city, though of less than he deserves, for I 
 know not where to find a more learned and a better bred 
 youth. Worthy and intelligent, he is so civil to all, so kind 
 to his friends, and so full of candour and affection, that you 
 will very rarely meet with so perfect a friend. He is ex- 
 traordinarily modest, without artifice, but full of prudent 
 simplicity. His conversation was so pleasant and innocently 
 cheerful, that his company greatly lessened the desire of 
 
English.] the Utopia. clxxix 
 
 without presuming to intrude any critical opinion 
 of my own. Upon the whole, the public have reason 
 to thank Mr. Cayley for his efforts in thus endea- 
 vouring to make Sir Thomas JM ore's Works a 
 popular study of the day. 
 
 A. D. 1808. 
 
 " Utopia ; or, the Best State of a Commonwealth. 
 
 Containing an Impartial History of the Manners, 
 
 Customs, Polity, Government, &c. of that Island. 
 
 By Sir Thomas More, Lord High Chancellor of 
 
 returning to my country and family, which an absence of 
 four months had occasioned. 
 
 M One day, as I was returning from mass, I chanced to 
 see him talking to a stranger, who seemed past the flower of 
 his age. His face was tanned, his beard long, and his 
 cloak hanging carelessly about him; so that, from his ap- 
 pearance, I concluded he was a seaman. When Peter saw 
 me, he came and saluted me; and as I was returning his 
 civility, he took me aside, and pointing to his companion, 
 said, * Do you see that man? I was just thinking of bring- 
 ing him to you.' • He should have been very welcome 
 (I answered) on your account.' ' And on his own too, 
 (he replied,) if you knew the man. For no one alive 
 can give a more copious account of unknown countries, 
 which I know you love.' * Then (said I) I did not guess 
 amiss, for I took him for a seaman.' ' But you are much 
 mistaken (he said), for he hath been no Palinurus, but 
 another Ulysses, or rather a Plato.' Vol. ii. 12, 13. 
 
clxxx Editions &c. [English. 
 
 England. To which is prefixed a Life of the 
 
 Author. London, printed for Jones and Bumford. 
 
 Small 8vo. 1808." 
 
 This is a neat little edition, printed with a good 
 
 type on wove paper. The life, which is an 
 
 abridgment of Mr. Macdi arm id's, occupies the first 
 
 xxxviii. pages ; this is followed by a prayer of Sir 
 
 Thomas More, as in the Oxford edition of 1751. 
 
 Bishop Burnet's preface and translation of the 
 
 Utopia occupy the next 212 pages, where the work 
 
 concludes. 
 
 * # * It may be proper here to observe, that the 
 text of the present edition of the Utopia is, in fact, 
 printed from Alsop's edition of 1639; as being the 
 most convenient ancient edition for the compositor 
 to execute. But Alsop's text differs so rarely from 
 Robinson's, that both may be thought one and the 
 same. Where, however, deviations do occur, they 
 have been noticed below. This is mentioned to pre- 
 vent any doubt or surprise, which otherwise might 
 have been excited, by seeing the edition of 155 1, re- 
 ferred to in the notes, quoted as a different text from 
 that which the reader is perusing. 
 
TO 
 
 THE HONOURABLE DESCENDED GENTLEMAN 
 
 CRESACRE MORE, 
 
 OF MORE PLACE, IN NORTH MIMS, IN THE 
 COUNTY OF HERTFORD, ESQ. 
 
 Next in Blood to Sir Thomas More, Lord 
 Chancellor of England, and Heir to the ancient 
 Family of the Cresacres, some time Lord of 
 the Manor of Bamborough, in the County of 
 York, in the Time of Edward the First. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 1 have found you so noble in the first 
 Dedication, that I should much derogate 
 from your true worth, and wrong myself to 
 make choice of a new patron for the second 
 (exactly done with applause), wherein I pre- 
 sume it will be no sin to multiply my ob- 
 ligation. Your name and nature claims and 
 
 B 
 
deserves it ; it is your due and my duty ; and 
 were I able to express more, More should 
 have it ; for I must always acknowledge your 
 goodness in whatsoever quality fortune shall 
 bestow me. Sir, I know you are wise. In a 
 word I am, really what I am ; 
 
 Your worship's ever to be commanded, 
 
 BER. ALSOP. 
 
 
Thomas More to Peter Giles. 
 
 Sendeth greeting.* 
 
 7 AM almost ashamed, right well beloved Peter 
 Giles, to send unto you this book of the Utopian 
 Commonwealth, well nigh after a years space, 
 which I am sure you looked for within a month 
 and a half. And no marvel : for you knew well 
 enough that I was already disburdened of all 
 the labour and study belonging to the invention of 
 this work, and that I had no need at all to trouble 
 my brains about the disposition, or conveyance 
 of the matter : and therefore had herein nothing 
 else to do but only to rehearse those things, 
 which you audi, together, heard Master Raphael 
 tell and declare. 
 
 * The translation of the Epistle is much more paraphrastic 
 than of the Romance; the original, of which a specimen is 
 given at page 12 (note J, would not have occupied half the space. 
 
4 THOMAS MORE 
 
 Wherefore there was no cause why I should 
 study to set forth the matter with eloquence; 
 forasmuch as his talk couldnot be fine and elegant, 
 being first not studied for, but sudden and un- 
 premeditate : and then, as you know, of a man 
 better seen in the Greek language than in the 
 Latin tongue. And my writing, the nigher it 
 should approach to his homely, plain, and simple 
 speech, so much the nigher should it go to the 
 truth ; which is the only mark whereuntoldo and 
 ought to direct all my travail and study herein, 
 
 I grant and confess, Friend Peter, myself dis. 
 charged of so much labour, having all these 
 things ready done to my hand, that almost there 
 was nothing left for me to do. Else, either the 
 invention or the disposition of this matter, might 
 have required of a wit, neither base nor at all 
 unlearned, both some time and study. But if it 
 were requisite and necessary that the matter 
 should also have been written eloquently, and not 
 alone truly, of a surety that thing could I have 
 performed by no time nor study! But now, seeing 
 all these cares stays and lets were taken away, 
 wherein else so much labour and study should 
 have been employed, and that there remained no 
 
TO PETER GILES. 5 
 
 other thing for me to do, but only to write plainly 
 the matter as I heard it spoken — that, indeed, was 
 a thing light and easy to be done. 
 
 Howbeit, to the dispatching of this so little 
 business, my other cares and troubles did leave 
 almost less than no leisure. While I do daily 
 bestow my time about law matters ; some to plead, 
 some to hear, some as an arbitrator with mine 
 award to determine; some as an umpire or a 
 judge, with my sentence finally to discuss ; while 
 I go one way to see and visit my friend; an 
 other way about mine own private affairs ; while 
 I spend almost all the day abroad amongst other, 
 and the residue at home among my own ; Heave 
 to myself, I mean to my book, no time. For when 
 I am come home, I must commune with my wife, 
 chat with my children, and talk with my servants. 
 All the which things J reckon and account among 
 business ; forasmuch as they must of necessity be 
 done : and done must they needs be, unless a man 
 will be a stranger in his own house. And in any- 
 wise a man must so fashion and order his con- 
 ditions, and so appoint and dispose himself, that 
 he be merry, jocund, and pleasant among them, 
 whom either nature has provided, or c fiance hath 
 
6 THOMAS MORE 
 
 made, or he himself hath chosen to be the fellows 
 and companions of his life: so that with too much 
 gentle behaviour and familiarity he do not mar 
 them, and by too much sufferance of his servants, 
 make them his masters. Among these things now 
 rehearsed, stealeth away the day, the month, the 
 year! 
 
 When do I write then P and all this while have 
 I spoken no word of sleep, neither yet of meat, 
 which among a great number doth yvaste no less 
 time than doth sleep, — wherein almost half the 
 life time of man creepeth away. I therefore do 
 win and get only that time, which I steal from 
 sleep and meat. Which time, because it is very 
 little, and yet somewhat it is, therefore have I 
 once at the last, though it be long first, finished 
 Utopia, and have sent it to you, Friend Peter, 
 to read and peruse : to the intent that if any 
 thing have escaped me, you might put me in re- 
 membrance of it. For though in this behalf I do 
 not greatly mistrust myself (which would God, I 
 were somewhat in wit and learning, as I am not 
 all of the worst and dullest memory .'J, yet have 
 I not so great trust and confidence in it, that I 
 think nothing could fall out of my mind. For 
 
TO PETER GILES, 7 
 
 John Clement, my boy, who, as you know, was 
 there present with us, whom I suffered to be away 
 
 from no talk, wherein may be any profit or good- 
 ness [for out of this young* bladedand new shot 
 up corn, which hath already begun to spring up 
 both in Latin and Greek learning, I look for 
 
 plentiful increase at length of goodly ripe grain); 
 he, I say, hath brought me into a great doubt. + 
 For whereas Hythloday (unless my memory 
 
 fail me) said that the bridge of Amaurote, which 
 
 goeth over the river of Anydar, is five hundred 
 
 * This u John Clement" seems to have been a servant of 
 some literary curiosity. More took him with him abroad in 
 his negociations at Cambray ; and it was probably during 
 his stay there that he found an opportunity of conveying to 
 Henry Stephens {the famous Frenchprinter) oneof the MSS. 
 from which the Odes of Anacreon were afterwardsfirst pub- 
 lished in 1554. None of More' s biographers relate this in- 
 cident; but it is mentioned by Stephens himself , and an account 
 of it will be seen in De La Monnoie's letter inserted in Bayle's 
 Diet. Hist, et Crit. torn. 1. Art. " Anacreon" note L. 
 Clement was afterwards a tutor in More's family, and 
 became a Greek professor at Oxford. 
 
 t u His taking notice of a difference in this little incident, 
 as well as of the omission in the following page, was evidently 
 to cover the fiction, and give it the colour of a true history : 
 nor could the situation of the island be ascertained, without 
 discovering that it was imaginary ." Warner. 
 
8 THOMAS MORE 
 
 paces, — that is to say y half a mile in length ; 
 my John saith, that two hundred oj those paces 
 must be plucked away, for that the river is there 
 not above three hundred paces in breadth. I pray 
 you heartily call the matter toy our remembrance: 
 for if you agree with him, I will also say as 
 you say, and confess myself deceived. But if 
 you cannot remember the thing, then surely I will 
 write as I have done, and as mine own remem- 
 brance serveth me. For, as I will take good heed 
 that there be in my book nothing false, so if there 
 be any thing doubtful, I will rather tell a lye, 
 than make a lye : because J had rather be good 
 than wise. 
 
 Howbeit, this matter may easily be remedied, 
 if you will take the pains to ask the question of 
 Raphael himself, by word of mouth, if he be now 
 withy ou, or else by letter. Whichyou must needs 
 do for another doubt also that hath chanced;* 
 through whose fault I cannot tell — whether 
 through mine, or yours, or Raphael's. For 
 neither we remembered to enquire of him, nor he 
 to tell us, in what part of the new world Utop i a 
 is situated. The which thing, J had rather have 
 
 * Happened : occurred. 
 
TO PETER GILES. 9 
 
 spent no small sum of money, than that it should 
 thus have escaped us : as well for that J am 
 ashamed to be ignorant in what sea that island 
 standeth, whereof I write solonga treatise, as also 
 because there be with us certain men, especially 
 one virtuous and godly man, andaprofessorof 
 divinity,* who is exceeding desirous to go unto 
 Utopia : not for a vain and curious desire to see 
 news, but to the intent he may further and increase 
 our religion, which is there already begun. 
 
 And that he may the better accomplish and 
 perform this his good intent, he is minded to pro- 
 cure that he may be sent thither by the high 
 
 * Who this professor was, or rather what induced More 
 to create the fiction, cannot now be ascertained. More's bio- 
 graphers say that Bud^us believed the whole narrative 
 of Utopia to be true, andwas for sending missionaries thither ; 
 but this belief does not appear in Budoeus's letter to Lu p s et us, 
 prefixed to both the Basil editions of 15 18 — 63. He says, 
 " Verum ego Utopiam extra mundi cogniti fines silam esse 
 percunctando comperi, insulam nimirum fortunatam, Elysiis 
 fortasse campis proximam, &c; and again, " Morus certe 
 insulam, et sancta instituta, stilo orationeque illustravit — 
 omniaque ea addidit, unde operi magnifico decor venustasque 
 accedit," fyc. This is certainly not the language of a man who 
 seriously believed that there was such a race of beings as the 
 Utopians. 
 
 C 
 
10 THOMAS MORE 
 
 Bishop : yea, and he himself may be made Bishop 
 of Utopia, being nothing scrupulous herein 
 that he must obtain this bishoprick with suit. 
 For he count eth that a godly suit, which pro- 
 ceedeth not of the desire of honour or lucre, but 
 only of a godly zeal* Wherefore I most ear- 
 nestly desire you, Friend Peter, to talk with 
 Hythloday, if you can, face to face; or else to 
 write your letters to him, and so to work in this 
 matter, that in this my book there may neither 
 any thing be found which is untrue, neither any 
 thing be lacking which is true. And I think 
 verily it shall be well done, that you shew unto 
 him the book itself. For if I have missed or 
 failed in any point, or if any fault hare escaped 
 me, no man can so well correct and amend it, as 
 he can ; and yet that can he not do, unless he 
 peruse and read over my book written. Moreover 
 by this means shall you perceive, whether he be 
 well willing and content that I should undertake 
 to put this work in writing. For if he be minded 
 to publish, and put forth his own labour and tra- 
 vels himself, perchance he would be loth ; and so 
 
 * The whole turn of this passage dearly prates that Mare 
 is still indulging his Utopia* vctm ofjktiom* 
 
TO PETER GILES. l 1 
 
 would I also, that in publishing the Utopian 
 weal publique, I should prevent him; and take 
 front him the flower and grace of the novelty of 
 this his history* 
 
 Howbeit, to say the very truth, I am not yet 
 fully determined with myself whether I will put 
 forth my book or no. For the nature of men be 
 so divers, the fantasies of some so wayward, their 
 minds so unkind, their judgments so corrupt, that 
 they, which lead a merry and a jocund life, fol- 
 lowing their own sensual pleasures and carnal 
 lusts, may seem to be in a much belter state or case 
 than they that vex and unquiet themselves with 
 cares and study, for the putting forth and pub- 
 lishing of something that nwy be either profit or 
 pleasure to others : which others, nevertheless, 
 will disdainfully, scornfully, and unkindly accept 
 the same. The most part of all be unlearned : and a 
 
 * ** Sir Th om as More not only intended that this should 
 pass for a true history, but also wished to conceal from the pub- 
 lic that he had any hand in it as an author : and as there could 
 be no great probability that the Jiciion could remain long 
 undiscovered, we may suppose he was the more solicitous to 
 succeed in the last intention ; having said so many free things 
 about religion and government in his narrative, repugnant to 
 the principles of the times he wrote in." Wa ener, 
 
12 THOMAS MORE 
 
 great number hath learning in contempt. The rude 
 and barbarous alloweth nothing but that which 
 is very barbarous indeed. If it be one that hath 
 a little smack of learning, he rejecteth as homely- 
 gear, and common ware, whatsoever is not stuffed 
 full of old moth-eaten words and terms, that be 
 worn out of use. 
 
 Some there be that have pleasure only in old 
 rusty antiquities : and some only in their own 
 doings. One is so sour, so crabbed, and so un- 
 pleasant, that he can away with no mirth or sport. 
 Another is so narrow in the shoulders, that he 
 can bear no jests nor taunts.* Some silly poor 
 souls be so afraid, that at every snappish word 
 
 * There is a very apposite illustration of the translator's 
 meaning in this place, in a picture of Hogarth. I think in 
 his "England'' — where some broad-shouldered Englishmen 
 are in theforeground, and a girl, just risen from her seat, is 
 measuring the width of one of their shoulders, leering at the 
 same time to her female companion. 
 
 The word translator is here marked in roman, to denote 
 that the passage is not to be found in the original. More's 
 language is extremely terse and forcible, and the above cha- 
 racters are thus drawn by him. " Scioli aspernantur ut tri- 
 viale, quicquid obsoletis verbis non scatet: quibusdam solum 
 placent Vetera, plerisque tantum sua : hie tamen tetricus est, 
 
. TO PETER GILES. 18 
 
 their nose shall be bitten off, that they stand in no 
 less dread of every quick and sharp word, than 
 he that is bitten of a mad dog, feareth water. 
 Some be so mutable and wavering, that every hour 
 they be in a new mind, saying one thing sitting, 
 and another thing standing. Another sort siiteth 
 upon their ale* benches, and there among their 
 
 vt non admittat jocos : hie tarn insulsus, ut nonferat sales : 
 tarn simi quidam sunt, ut nasum omnem, velut aquam ab rabido 
 morsus cane, reformident : adeo mobiles alii sunt, ut aliud 
 sedentes probent, aliud stantes : hi sedent in tabernis, et inter 
 pocula SfC." The reader will hence obtain a specimen of the 
 closeness of the original, contrasted with the translation of 
 * Master Raphe Robinson.' He will observe how the expressions 
 ** tetricus, insulsus, and simi," have been spun out, not to say 
 changed in some respects, by the translator. 
 
 • The alehouse seems to have been, in all countries of modern 
 Europe, the great rendezvous for debate as well as drinking 
 and feasting, among the lower classes of people ; and the 
 benches placed on the outside of them, are still filled with ve- 
 hement debaters as well as boisterous merry makers. Teniers's 
 pictures are excellent illustrations of this subject. Some in- 
 genious information may be obtained concerning wakes and 
 merry makings at these places, in the edition of Shakspeare 
 published in 1803, vol. ix.p. 231. Warton's long note (Hist. 
 Eng. Poetry, vol. iii.p. 128), whichis therereferred to, Ihave 
 perused, and it is full of entertainment. The host or landlord 
 was generally considered a man of superior attainments, 
 
U THOMAS MORE 
 
 cups they give judgment of the wits of writers; 
 and with great authority they condemn, even as 
 pleaseth them, every writer according to his writ' 
 ing, in most spightful manner ; mocking, touting, 
 and flouting them : being themselves in the mean 
 season safe, and, as saith the proverb, out of 
 all " danger of gun shot." For they have not so 
 much as one heart of an honest man, whereby one 
 may take hold of them. 
 
 There be moreover some, so unkind and un- 
 genteel, that, though they take great pleasure 
 and delectation in the work, yet, for all that, 
 they can not find in their hearts to love the 
 Author thereof % nor to afford him a good word ; 
 being much like uncourteous, unthankful, and 
 churlish guests, which, when they have with good 
 
 and was usually made umpire in disputes. Cornwallis, in 
 his 22nd essay, " of alehouses," thus begins ; " I write 
 this in an alehouse, into which I am driven by night, which 
 would not give me leave to find out an honester harbour. I 
 am without any company but ink and paper, and these I use 
 instead of talking to myself: my host hath already given 
 me his knowledge, but lam little bettered." Seethe Essays 
 of Sir William Cornwallis, the younger, Knight, ed. 1632. 
 The character of a host is well described in Sir Thomas 
 Overbury's Characters. For which see note on" tipling-houses," 
 p. 65 et seq. 
 
TO PETER GILES. 15 
 
 and dainty meat well filled their bellies, depart 
 home, giving no thanks to the feast maker. Go 
 
 your ways now, and make a costly feast at your 
 own charge for guests so dainty mouthed, so 
 divers in taste, and besides that, of so unkind 
 and unthankful nature. 
 
 But nevert he less (FriendJ* eter) do, I pray you, 
 with Hithloday, as I willedyou before. And, as 
 
 for this matter, I shall be at my liberty afterwards 
 to take new advisements. Howbeit, seeing I have 
 taken great pains and labour in writing the 
 matter, if it may stand with his mind and plea- 
 sure, I will, as touching the edition or publishing 
 of the book, follow the counsel arid advice of my 
 
 friends, and especially yours. Thus, fare you 
 well right heartily beloved Friend Peter, with 
 
 your gentle wife ! and love me as you have ever 
 done, for I love you better than ever I did. 
 
THE 
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF UTOPIA,* 
 2&ot* t{)e firgt 
 
* " There is no doubt, I think, to be made, but that all 
 More's own notions of government were recommended 
 under this ingenious fiction of a common-wealth : and 
 if in some instances of his conduct afterwards, he 
 seemed evidently to counteract them, it may be supposed 
 that he had seen reason to change his sentiments, upon 
 farther knowledge, and more experience of men and 
 things. These instances however, I apprehend, will be 
 found to be very few : and the diffusion of property, which 
 is the ground work of his plan, if we may judge from his 
 superlative contempt of riches all through his life, — which 
 in these days will be thought perhaps to be either folly or 
 frenzy — was not one of the things which he afterwards 
 disapproved." Warner. 
 
 " The Utopia is a philosophical romance, in which 
 More, after the example of Plato, erects an imaginary 
 republic, arranges a society in a form entirely new — and 
 endows it with institutions more likely to secure its hap- 
 piness than any which mankind have hitherto expe- 
 rienced. But with an improvement on the model of Plato, 
 the republic of the Utopians assumes an actual existence : 
 it is discovered by an adventurous navigator in a distant 
 part of the new hemisphere, where it had for many ages 
 continued to flourish : and More only communicates to 
 the world what he learnt from the narrative of an intelli- 
 gent eye-witness." Macdiarmid's Lives of British 
 
 Statesmen, 4to. 1807, P» 19« 
 
 If we are to credit the biography of More's great grand- 
 son, it would seem that the author of Utopia "judged 
 the booke no better worthie, then to lye alwaies hidden in 
 his owne iland, or else to be consecrated to Vulcan." 
 Life and Death of Sir Thomas More, 4to. edit. 2. 
 
PROLOGUE.* 
 
 1 he most victorious King of England, 
 Henry the Eighth of that name, in all 
 royal virtues a Prince most peerless, had of 
 late, in controversy with Charles, the right 
 
 * About the year 1720, there appeared a work called 
 " Memoirs of a certain Island adjacent to the kingdom of 
 Utopia ? written by a celebrated author of that country, 
 new translated into English." — Lond. 8vo. 1726\ 2nd. edit.; 
 but this seems to have been published as a vehicle only for 
 romantic incidents, and licentious sentiments. It begins in 
 
20 Prologue. 
 
 high and mighty King of Castile, weighty 
 matters, and of great importance. For the 
 debatement and final determination whereof, 
 the King's Majesty sent me Ambassador into 
 Flanders, joined in commission with Cuth- 
 bert Tunstall,* a man doubtless out of 
 comparison, and whom the King's Majesty 
 
 the following common-place style : 4< A noble youth, who 
 had ranged o'er almost all the habitable part of the globe in 
 search of pleasure and improvement, at last arrived at an 
 island famous for arts and sciences, and talked of, by the 
 neighbouring nations, as a place where all useful accom- 
 plishments might, in the most elegant manner, be attained. 
 He had no sooner landed, than he was charmed with even 
 the first and rudest prospects ; but when he had entered 
 farther, and could distinctly view the lovely landscape, 
 he became quite lost, and ravished in contemplation. 
 Where-e'er he cast his wondering eyes, all had the face of 
 joy ! of everlasting peace ! — and soft repose ! — no tumults 
 — no noise— no stormy tongues of faction, nor elemental 
 hurricanes seemed ever to have disturbed the quiet of 
 this happy shore!" &c. &c. 
 
 * More here alludes to his having gone abroad with 
 his esteemed friend Tunstall, to assist at the nego- 
 ciations for peace at Cambray. " In the concluding 
 whereof," says Hoddesdon, " Sir Thomas More so worthily 
 behaved himself, that for his good service in that employ- 
 ment, the King made him Chancellor, and caused the 
 
Prologue. 1 1 
 
 of late, to the great rejoicing of all men, 
 did prefer to the office of Master of the 
 Rolls. 
 
 Duke of Norfolk openly to declare unto the people, how 
 much all England was bounden unto him." See p. 41,2. 
 
 The following brief particulars concerning Tunstall 
 may be acceptable to the reader. Godwin says that there 
 was a report of the founder of his family having been 
 Tonsor to William I. : but this is entirely discredited by 
 him. In 1529, when at Antwerp, on his return to Eng- 
 land from Cambray, Tunstall found there the greater part 
 of the first impression of Tindal's translation of the Bible, 
 the whole of which he bought up, and, on his arrival in 
 England, caused the same to be publicly burnt in Cheap- 
 side. I have heard that there are on\y Jive copies now in 
 existence of this edition. In 1530, he was translated from 
 the see of London to that of Durham — when, we are told 
 by Fuller, that " the bishoprick of Durham had halcyon 
 days under God and the good Cuthbert Tunstall, a 
 learned man of sweet disposition, rather devout to follow 
 his own than cruel to persecute the conscience of others." 
 
 Tunstall was a zealous Catholic, and experienced that 
 reverse of condition which public characters were almost 
 sure to undergo in the reigns of Edward VI., Mary, and 
 Elizabeth. He is allowed, upon the whole, to have been 
 moderate and benevolent ; though twice imprisoned in the 
 Tower, nothing seems to have diminished that ardour for 
 learning and science which always marked his conduct 
 and writings. He wrote several grammatical and arith- 
 metical treatises; and we are told by Granger, [vol. i.94. 
 
52 Prologue. 
 
 But of this man's praises I will say nothing; 
 not because I do fear that small credence shall 
 be given to the testimony that cometh out of 
 a friend's mouth ; but because his virtue and 
 learning be greater^ and of more excellency, 
 than that I am able to praise them : and also 
 in ail places so famous and so perfectly well 
 known, that they need not, nor ought not 
 of me to be praised, unless I would seem to 
 shew and set forth " the brightness of the sun 
 with a candle,"* as the proverb saith. 
 
 edit. 1804.] that his work u De Arte Supputandi, was 
 the first treatise on arithmetic published in England." 
 Erasmus calls him " a man of most blameless life, excel- 
 lently skilled in all human and divine learning, and igno- 
 rant of no branch of science." More always mentions 
 him with rapture, and had the highest reverence for his 
 abilities and virtues. See Stapleton Vit. Mori, 63, 4. His 
 Latin epitaph, engraved on his tomb in Lambeth church 
 (where he was buried with great pomp), was written by 
 Walter Haddon, but not in very elegant Latinity. Consult 
 Godwin De Prcesulibus Anglia, p. 755. Fox's Martyrs, 
 vol. ii. p. 11. edit. Ifj41. 
 
 * " Nisi videri veliin solem lucerna." Burnet and War- 
 ner have translated ' lucerna' a lantern: but the above,which 
 is also in the translation of 1551, seems better to convey 
 the spirit of the original. More himself made use of the same 
 English expression, in his speech on being made Chancellor, 
 
Prologue. 23 
 
 There met us at Bruges (for thus it was be- 
 fore agreed) they whom their Prince had 
 for that matter appointed commissioners : 
 excellent men all. The chief and head of 
 them was the Margrave* (as they call him) 
 of Bruges ■, a right honourable man: but the 
 wisest and the best spoken of them was 
 George Temsise,^ provost of Gasselses, a 
 man, not only by learning, but also by na- 
 ture, of singular eloquence, and in the laws 
 profoundly learned — but in reasoning and 
 
 when he compared himself with his predecessor Wolsey — 
 '* to whom I may seem but as the lighting of a candle, 
 when the sun is down." — Hoddesdoris Life, p. 51. 
 
 * " Praefectus Brugensis." The word " Margrave" [from 
 the German, — signifying, a keeper of marches or borders] 
 was adopted in our language, I believe, towards the middle 
 of the l6th century ; probably for the first time, in the pre- 
 sent work. 
 
 f " Georgius Temsicius." Burnet and Warner have 
 translated this uncouth Latin name " Temse ;" but there is 
 more force in the old translation. This gentleman who, 
 for good reasons, does not occur in Foppens's Bibl.Belgica, 
 appears to have been the head of Cassel, the capital of the 
 landgraviate of Hesse Cassel, in the circle of the Upper 
 Rhine : there are, however, two other towns in the Low 
 Countries called by the same name. The first English 
 translation styles him " Temsice." 
 
54 Prologue. 
 
 debating of matters, what by his natural wit, 
 and what by daily exercise, surely he had 
 few fellows ! After that we had once or twice 
 met, and upon certain points or articles could 
 not fully and thoroughly agree, they, for a 
 certain space, took their leave of us and 
 departed to Brussels, there to know their 
 prince's pleasure. I, in the mean time (for 
 so my business lay), went straight thence to 
 Antwerp. 
 
 While I was there abiding, oftentimes 
 among other, but which to me was more 
 welcome than any other, did visit me one 
 Peter Giles,* a citizen of Antwerp; a man 
 there in his country of honest reputation, 
 and also preferred to high promotions, wor- 
 thy truly of the highest. For it is hard to 
 say, whether the young man be in learning 
 or in honesty more excellent. For he is 
 both of wonderful virtuous conditions, and 
 also singularly well learned, and towards 
 all sorts of people exceeding gentle : but 
 towards his friends so kind hearted, so 
 loving, so faithful, so trusty, and of so 
 
 • " Petrus ^gidius, Antverpiae natus." 
 
Prologue. 25 
 
 earnest affection, that it were very hard in 
 any place to find a man, that with him in 
 all points of friendship may be compared. 
 No man can be more lowly or courteous ; 
 no man useth less simulation, or dissimula- 
 tion ; in no man is more prudent simplicity. 
 Besides this, he is in his talk and commu- 
 nication so merry and pleasant, yea, and 
 that without harm, that through his gentle 
 entertainment, and his sweet and delectable 
 communication, in me was greatly abated 
 and diminished the fervent desire that I had 
 to see my native country, my wife and my 
 children, whom then I did much long and 
 covet to see ; because that, at that time, I had 
 been more than four months from them. 
 Upon a certain day when I had heard the 
 divine service in our Lady's Church, which 
 is the fairest, the most gorgeous, and curious 
 church of building in all the city, and also 
 most frequented of people — and the service 
 being done, was ready to go home to my 
 lodging, I chanced to espy this foresaid 
 Peter talking with a certain stranger, 
 a man well stricken in age, with a black 
 
 E 
 
26 Prologue. 
 
 sun-burned face, a long beard, and a cloak 
 cast homely about his shoulders, whom, by 
 his favour and apparel, forthwith I judged 
 to be a mariner. But the said Peter seeing 
 me, came unto me and saluted me. And 
 as I was about to answer him : " See you 
 this man," saith he (and therewith he pointed 
 to the man that I saw him talking with before), 
 " I was minded (quoth he) to bring him 
 straight home to you." " He should have 
 been very welcome to me (said I) for your 
 sake." " Nay (quoth he) for his own sake, if 
 you knew him : for there is no man this day 
 living, that can tell you of so many strange 
 and unknown people and countries as this 
 man can. And I know well that you be very 
 desirous to hear of such news." " Then 
 I conjectured not far amiss (quoth I), for 
 even at the first sight, I judged him to be 
 a mariner. Nay (quoth he), there ye were 
 greatly deceived : he hath sailed indeed, 
 not as the mariner Pali nuke, but as the 
 expert and prudent Prince Ulysses : yea, 
 rather as the ancient and sage philosopher 
 Plato. For this same Raphael Hythlo- 
 
Prologue. 2 7 
 
 day,* this being his name, is very well 
 learned in the Latin tongue ; but pro- 
 found and excellent in the Greek language. 
 Wherein he ever bestowed more study than 
 in the Latin, because he had given him- 
 self wholly to the study of philosophy. 
 Whereof he knew that there is nothing 
 certain in Latin that is to any purpose, 
 saving a few of Seneca s and Cicero's doings. 
 His patrimony that he was born unto, he 
 left to his brethren (for he is a Portugal 
 born), and for the desire he had to see and 
 know the far countries of the world, he 
 joined himself in company with Americke 
 Vespuce ;t and in the three last voyages 
 
 * " Sic enim vocatur gentilitio nomine Hytiilo- 
 djeus." — The names of More's characters, and espe- 
 cially of the present one, seem to be rather whimsically 
 chosen; they remind us a little of Rousseau's uncouth ap- 
 pellation of an English Noblemen — " Mi lord Bum- 
 sted !" 
 
 It has been fancied that, under these names, More 
 meant to convey some personal allusions — which cannot 
 now be explained. This, however, is the mere fane y of 
 an annotator. 
 
 f " Americo Vespucio se adiunxit." — Americus Ves- 
 putius, according to Burnet; who thinks this name more 
 
58 Prologue. 
 
 of those four that be now in print, and 
 abroad in every man's hands, he continued 
 still in his company, saving that in the last 
 voyage he came not home again with him. 
 For he made such means and shift, what 
 by intreatance, and what by importune suit, 
 that he got license of Master Americke 
 (though it were sore against his will) to be 
 one of the twenty-four, which in the end 
 of the last voyage were left in the country 
 of Gulicke. He was therefore left behind 
 for his mind sake, as one that took more 
 thought and care for travelling than dying ; 
 having customably in his mouth these say- 
 ings : He that hath no grave is covered with 
 the sky; and, The way to heaven, out of all 
 places, is of like length and distance* Which 
 
 deserving of latinisation than Temsicius. Vesputius was 
 surnamed " Americanus," on account of his being the first 
 writer who gave us a description of America : his narra- 
 tive may be seen among the Collections of Voyages by 
 Ramusio and Harris. 
 
 * " Coelo tegitur, qui non habet urnam, &c." — " The 
 way to heaven is the same from all places, and he that 
 has no grave has the heavens still over him." — So Burnet ; 
 but not so happy as the above; which is also the first 
 
Prologue. 29 
 
 fantasy of his (if God had not been his better 
 friend), he had surely bought full dear. But 
 after the departure of Master Vespuce, 
 when he had travelled through and about 
 many countries with five of his companions, 
 Gulikians — at the last, by marvellous chance 
 he arrived in Taprobane* from whence he 
 went to Caliquit^ where he chanced to find 
 certain of his country ships, wherein he 
 returned again into his country, nothing 
 less than looked for. All this when Peter 
 had told me, I thanked him for his gentle 
 kindness that he had vouchsafed to bring 
 me to the speech of that man, whose corn- 
 translation ot* 1551. The French translation is elegant 
 and close : " qui n'est point enterre, a le ciel pour cha- 
 peau j et, qu'il n'y a point d'endroit d'ou on ne puisse aller 
 a Dieu." 
 
 * This word is used by the ancient geographers Strabo, 
 Pliny, and Ptolemy, as descriptive of that immense island 
 in the Indian ocean which our moderns call Ceylon : see 
 Baudrandi Gcographia, torn. ii. 286*. A curious circum- 
 stance connected with the discovery of it is noticed by 
 Dr. Vincent in his Commerce of the Ancients, vol. i. 48. 
 n. 117. edit. 1807. 
 
 t Calicut : a town on the Malabar coast. 
 
SO Prologue. 
 
 munication he thought should be to me 
 pleasant and acceptable. And therewith 
 I turned me to Raphael: and when we 
 had hailed each other, and had spoken those 
 common words that be customably spoke 
 at the first meeting and acquaintance of 
 strangers, we went thence to my house, and 
 there in my garden,* upon a bench covered 
 with green turfs, we sat down talking 
 together. 
 
 * " Ibique in horto considentes, in scamno cespitibus 
 herbeis constrato, confabulamur :" l< and entering into the 
 garden, sat down on a green bank, and entertained one 
 another in discourse :" so Burnet and Warner — but it is 
 not so faithful a translation as the old, nor does it express 
 the action so picturesquely. The opposite vignette, taken 
 from the Editio princeps, is a very correct, as well as 
 curious representation of it. 
 
 The opening of the narrative is extremely pleasing, 
 and well conceived. More makes his hero " Master 
 Hythloday" unfold the laws, manners, and customs, &c. 
 of the fabulous Utopians, with an air of as much im- 
 portance as that which Ulysses assumed with Calypso, 
 or iEneas with Dido. If I might mention small things 
 after great, I would just observe that the episodes or 
 tales in the novel of " Gil Bias De Santillane" are intro- 
 duced with more skill and natural effect, than in any other 
 similar production that I know of. 
 
INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE, 
 
 XIere he told us how that, after the depart- 
 ing of Vespuce, he and his fellows that 
 tarried behind in Gulicke* began by little 
 and little, through fair and gentle speech, 
 
 ♦ " In Castello,"— " New Castile :" as all the other 
 translations properly have it. 
 
$2 Introductory Discourse to book i ] 
 
 to win the love and favour of the people of 
 that country ; insomuch, that within short 
 space they did dwell among them, not only 
 harmless, but also occupying with them 
 familiarly. He told us also, that they were 
 in high reputation and favour with a certain 
 great man (whose name and country are now 
 quite out of my remembrance), which of 
 his mere liberality, did bear the costs and 
 charges of him and his five companions : 
 and besides that, gave them a trusty guide 
 to conduct them in their journey (which 
 by water was in boats, and by land in wag- 
 gons), and to bring them to other princes 
 with very friendly commendations. 
 
 Thus after many days journeys, he said they 
 found towns and cities, and weal-publiques 
 full of people, governed by good and whole- 
 some laws: for under the line equinoctial, *and 
 on both sides of the same, as far as the sun 
 doth extend its course, lieth (quoth he) 
 great and wide desarts ;+ and wildernesses 
 
 * " ^Equator," in Burnet. — " Sub jEquatoris linea," in 
 the original Latin. 
 
 f " Vast desarts that were parched with the perpetual 
 heat of the sun : the soil was withered ; all things looked 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 33 
 
 parched, burned, and dried up with con- 
 tinual and intolerable heat. All things be 
 hideous, terrible, loathsome, and unplea- 
 sant to behold : all things out of fashion 
 and comeliness ; inhabited with wild beasts 
 and serpents ; or, at the least-wise, with 
 people that be no less savage, wild, and 
 noisome than the very beasts themselves be. 
 But a little farther beyond that, all things 
 begin by little and little to wax pleasant: 
 the air soft, temperate, and gentle: the 
 
 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." 
 So Burnet and Warner ; but not equal to the above, which 
 is also in the first English translation. — The Latin passage 
 is as follows : " vastas objacere solitudines perpetuo fer- 
 vore torridas. Squalor undique et tristis rerum facies, 
 horrida atque inculta omnia, feris habitata serpentibus- 
 que, aut denique hominibus neque minus efferis quam 
 sint beluae, neque minus noxiis. Ceterum ubi longius 
 evectus sis, paulatim omnia mansuescere, coelum minui 
 asperum, solum virore blandum, mitiora animantium in- 
 genia," &c. 
 
 F 
 
34 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 ground covered with green grass : less wild- 
 ness in the beasts. At the last shall ye 
 come to people, cities, and towns, wherein 
 is continual intercourse and occupying of 
 merchandize and chaffare,* not only among 
 themselves and with their borderers, but 
 also with the merchants of far countries, 
 both by land and water. 
 
 There I had occasion (said he) to go to 
 many countries on every side; for there 
 was no ship ready to any voyage or journey, 
 but I and my fellows were into it very gladly 
 received. The ships that they found first, 
 were made plain, flat, and broad in the 
 bottom trough-wise. The sails were made 
 of great rushes, or of wickers, and in some 
 places of leather. Afterward they found 
 ships with ridged keels, and sails of canvass : 
 yea, and shortly after, having all things 
 like ours. The shipmen also were expert 
 and cunning, both in the sea and in the 
 weather. But he said, that he found great 
 favour and friendship among them, for 
 teaching them the feat and use of the load- 
 
 * Wares. The above word is used by Chaucer and 
 Spenser. 
 
book I.] the Description of Utopia. 35 
 
 stone* which to them before that time 
 was unknown. And therefore they were 
 wont to be very timorous and fearful upon 
 the sea, nor to venture upon it, but only in 
 the summer time. But now they have such 
 a confidence in that stone, that they fear not 
 stormy winter : in so doing farther from 
 care than danger. In so much, that it is 
 greatly to be doubted, least that thing, 
 through their own foolish hardiness, shall 
 turn them to evil and harm, which at the 
 first was supposed should be to them good 
 and commodious. But what he told us that 
 he saw in every country where he came, it 
 were very long to declare: neither is it 
 my purpose at this time to make rehearsal 
 thereof. But peradventure in another place 
 will I speak of it : chiefly such things as shall 
 be profitable to be known ; as in special be 
 those decrees and ordinances that he marked 
 to be well and wittily provided and enacted 
 among such people as do together live in 
 a civil policy and good order. For of such 
 
 * " Tradito magnetis usu :" the use of the compass is 
 here alluded to. 
 
36 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 things did we busily enquire and demand of 
 him, and he likewise very willingly told us 
 of the same. But as for monsters, because 
 they be no news, of them we were nothing 
 inquisitive: for nothing is more easy to be 
 found, than be barking Scyllas t ravening 
 Celeries, and Lestrigones, devourers of people, 
 and such like great and incredible monsters.* 
 But to find citizens ruled by good and 
 wholesome laws, that is an exceeding rare and 
 hard thing ! 
 
 But as he marked many fond and foolish 
 laws in those new-found lands, so he re- 
 hearsed divers acts and constitutions, where- 
 by these our cities, nations, countries, and 
 kingdoms may take example to amend their 
 faults, enormities, and errors. Whereof 
 in another place (as I said) I will intreat. 
 Now at this time I am determined to re- 
 hearse only what he told us of the manners, 
 
 * This is a just satire upon those travels, which are 
 minute in the description of such trifles as bring no acqui- 
 sition of knowledge, or improvement to mankind : and 
 which are silent in the great affairs of government, of 
 
 human life, and the history of the heart of man. 
 
 Warner. 
 
b o o k I . ] the Description of Utopia. 3 7 
 
 customs, laws, and ordinances of the Uto- 
 pians. But first I will repeat our former 
 communication, by the occasion and (as 
 I might say) the drift whereof, he was 
 brought into the mention of the weal-pub* 
 lie: for when Raphael had very pru- 
 dently touched divers things that be amiss, 
 some here and some there ; yea, very many 
 on both parts ; and again had spoken of 
 such wise laws and prudent decrees as be 
 established and used both here among us 
 and also among them ; as a man so perfect 
 and expert in the laws and customs of every 
 several country, as though into what place 
 soever he came guestwise, there he had led 
 all his life: then Peter much marvelling 
 at the man; " Surely Master Raphael 
 (quoth he), I wonder greatly why you get 
 not into some King's court : for I am sure 
 there is no Prince living that would not 
 be very glad of you, as a man not only 
 able highly to delight him with your 
 profound learning, and this your know- 
 ledge of countries and peoples, but also 
 meet to instruct him with examples, and 
 
38 Liiroductory Discourse to [book. i. 
 
 help him with counsel ; and thus doing, you 
 shall bring yourself in a very good case, 
 and also be of ability to help all your 
 friends and kinsfolk." " As concerning my 
 friends and kinsfolk (quoth he), I pass not 
 greatly for them : for I think I have suf- 
 ficiently done my part towards them already. 
 For these things — that other men do not 
 depart from until they be old and sick ; 
 yea, which they be then very loth to leave, 
 when they can no longer keep— those 
 very same things did I, being not only lusty, 
 and in good health, but also in the flower 
 of my youth, divide among my friends and 
 kinsfolk.* Which I think with this my 
 
 * How many people of great wealth, and without a fa- 
 mily, this distribution of his riches is a reproach to, who, 
 without a capacity of enjoying a tenth part of what they 
 have, withhold it from public and private charities, and 
 from those very relations and friends to whom they intend 
 to leave it at their death, when they can no longer keep 
 it ; how many people it reproaches, who have great un- 
 derstandings, and know the injury which this avarice does 
 to sociery ; how many others it condemns, who have to 
 all appearance a great sense of religion, and yet who know 
 that there can be no real religion with such a temper of 
 mind — the reader will be able to determine without any 
 pointing out. Warner. 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 39 
 
 liberality ought to hold them contented, 
 and not to require nor to look that besides 
 this, I should for their sakes give myself in 
 bondage unto kings." " Nay,* God forbid 
 that (quoth Peter), it is not my mind that 
 you should be in bondage to kings, but as 
 a retainer to them at your pleasure. Which 
 surely I think is the nighest way that you 
 can devise how to bestow your time fruit- 
 fully, not only for the private commodity 
 of your friends, and for the general profit 
 of all sorts of people, but also for the ad- 
 vancement of yourself to a much wealthier 
 state and condition than you be now in." 
 M To a wealthier condition (quoth Ra- 
 phael), by these means which my mind 
 
 * " Bona verba, inquit Petrus, mihi visum est non ut 
 sertias regibus, sed ut inservias." says the original, which 
 Burnet translates, " soft and fair, said Peter, I do not mean 
 that you should be a slave to any kjng, but only that you 
 should assist them and be useful to them." This is less 
 close and spirited than the old translation — though the 
 beginning " soft and fair" is rather preferable for the 
 " bona verba" of the original. 
 
 Dryden has made a literal translation of these two 
 words, in his Virgil. Bucolic iii. v. 7. u Parcius ista 
 viris, &c." " Good words, young C ." 
 
40 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 standeth clean against ! Now, I live at 
 liberty after mine own mind and pleasure, 
 which I think very few of these great states 
 and peers of realms can say. Yea, and 
 there be enough of them that sue for great 
 men's frendships : and therefore think it no 
 great hurt if they have not me, nor third or 
 fourth such other as I am. " Well, I per- 
 ceive plainly friend Raphael (quoth I), 
 that you be desirous neither of riches nor 
 of power : and truly I have in no less reve- 
 rence and estimation a man of your mind, 
 than any of them all that be so high in power 
 and authority : but you shall do as it be- 
 cometh you ; yea, and according to this 
 wisdom, to this high and free courage of 
 yours, if you can find in your heart so to 
 appoint and dispose yourself, that you may 
 apply your wit and diligence to the profit 
 of the weal-public, though it be somewhat to 
 your own pain and hindrance. And this 
 shall you never so well do, nor with so 
 great profit perform, as if you be of some 
 great prince's council and put into his head 
 (as I doubt not but you will) honest opinions, 
 
book I.] the Description of Utopia. 41 
 
 and virtuous persuasions. For from the 
 prince,* as from a perpetual well-spring, 
 cometh among the people the flood of all 
 that is good or evil. But in you is so per- 
 fect learning, that without any experience, 
 and again so great experience, that without 
 any learning, you may well be any king's 
 counsellor." 
 
 " You be twice deceived Master More 
 (quoth he), first in me, and again in the 
 thing itself: for neither is in me the ability 
 that you force upon me, and if it were never 
 so much, yet in disquieting mine own quiet- 
 ness I should nothing further the weal- 
 public. For first of all, the most part of all 
 Princes have more delight in warlike matters 
 and feats of chivalry (the knowledge whereof 
 I neither have nor desire), than in the good 
 feats of peace : and employ much more 
 study, how by right or by wrong to enlarge 
 
 * The above is a purer and stronger translation than 
 Burnet's — M for the springs both of good and evil flow 
 from the prince over a whole nation, as from a lasting 
 fountain" More says, " Nempe aprincipe bonorum raa- 
 lorumque omnium torrens in totumpopulum, velutaperenni 
 quodam fonte, promanat." 
 
 C 
 
42 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 their dominions, than how well and peace- 
 able to rule and govern that they have 
 already. Moreover, they that be counsel- 
 lors to kings, every one of them either is 
 of himself so wise indeed that he needeth 
 not, or else he thinketh himself so wise that 
 he will not allow, another man's counsel, 
 saving that they do shamefully and flatter- 
 ingly give assent to the fond and foolish 
 sayings of certain great men : whose favours, 
 because they be in high authority with their 
 Prince, by assentation and flattery they la- 
 bour to obtain. And verily it is naturally 
 given to all men to esteem their own inven- 
 tions best : so both the raven and the ape 
 think their own young ones fairest. Then 
 if a man in such a company, where some 
 disdain and have despite at other men's in- 
 ventions, and some count their own best; if 
 among such men (I say) a man should bring 
 forth any thing, that he hath read done in 
 times past, or that he hath seen done in other 
 places ;* there the hearers fare as though 
 
 * This passage is rather obscure; Alsop, the editor, 
 seems to have implicitly followed Robinson, the first trans- 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 43 
 
 the whole existimation of their wisdom 
 were in jeopardy to be overthrown, and that 
 ever after they should be counted for very 
 ideots, unless they could in other men's 
 inventions pick out matter to reprehend and 
 find fault at. If all other poor helps fail, 
 then this is their extreme refuge. These 
 things, say they, pleased our forefathers and 
 ancestors: would God we could be so wise 
 as they were : and, as though they had wit- 
 tily concluded the matter, and with this 
 answer stopped every man's mouth, they sit 
 down again ; as who should say, it were 
 a very dangerous matter if a man in any 
 point should be found wiser than his fore- 
 fathers were ! And yet be we content to 
 suffer the best and wittiest of their decrees 
 to lie unexecuted: but if in any thing a 
 
 lator. Burnet says, somewhat more intelligibly; M 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," — which is sufficiently feeble. 
 More means that " the pride of some people's intellects 
 is frequently wounded when they are unable to make an 
 observation, or reply to a narrative of a perfectly novel 
 nature." 
 
44 Introductory Discourse to [book I. 
 
 better order might have been taken than by 
 them was, there we take fast hold, finding 
 there many faults. Many times have I 
 chanced upon such proud, lewd, over-thwart, 
 and wayward judgments ; yea, and once in 
 England."- — " I pray you, Sir, quoth I, have 
 you been in our country ? Yea, forsooth, 
 (quoth he) and there I tarried for the space 
 of four or five months together ; not long 
 after the insurrection the western English- 
 men made against their king,* which by their 
 own miserable and pitiful slaughter was 
 suppressed and ended. 
 
 In the mean season, I was much bound 
 and beholding to the right reverend father 
 John Morton,+ Archbishop and Cardinal 
 of Canterbury, and at that time also Lord 
 
 * The insurrection of the Cornish men, in the year 1495, 
 is, I suppose, here alluded to. 
 
 f The manner in which this amiable character is intro- 
 duced, is singularly happy : and the above (which is also 
 the first) translation of More's description of him, is in 
 every respect superior to Burnet's. I subjoin the Latin, that 
 the reader may judge for himself: " Etenim statura ei 
 mediocris erat, nee aetati quanquara serae cedens ; vultus 
 quem revereare, non horreas : in congressu non difficilis, 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 45 
 
 Chancellor of England; a man, Master Pet eh, 
 (for Master More knoweth already what 
 
 serius tamen et gravis. Libido erat, asperius interdum 
 compellando supplicantes experiri, sed sine noxa, quid 
 ingenii, quam animi praesentiam quisque prae se ferret, 
 qua velut cognata sibi virtute, modo abesset impudentia, 
 delectabatur, et ut idoneam ad res gerendas amplectebatur. 
 Sermo politus et efficax, juris magna peritia, ingenium in- 
 comparibile, memoria ad prodigium usque excellens. Haec 
 enim natura egregia discendo atque exercendo provexit." 
 
 Of this excellent metropolitan and chancellor, very 
 little is now known. In More's life by his grandson, 4to. 
 edit. p. 18, 19, he is only mentioned as connected with Sir 
 Thomas ; but his ready and early patronage of More, and 
 most probably of other ingenious young men of the age, is 
 plainly to be inferred from the same authority. How the 
 Cardinal was delighted with the author of the Utopia in 
 particular, may be seen by the anecdote recorded in the 
 next note. Morton took upon himself the expenses of 
 More's college education, and afterwards placed him at 
 one of the Inns of Court. " The king and the common- 
 wealth relied chiefly upon this man's counsell, as he, 
 by whose policie, king Henrie the Seaventh both gott the 
 crown of England from Richard the Third, the usurper, 
 and also most happily procured the two housez of Lancaster 
 and Yorke to be united by marriage." More's Life by his 
 great grandson, 4to. edit. p. 19« 
 
 Dr. John Barwick, in his Life of Bishop [Thomas] Mor- 
 ton, who lived in the seventeenth century, and who was a 
 
46 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 I will say), not more honourable for his 
 authority, than for his prudence and vir- 
 tue. He was of a mean stature, and though 
 stricken in age, yet bare he his body up- 
 right. 
 
 In his face did shine such an amiable 
 reverence, as was pleasant to behold. Gen- 
 tle in communication, yet earnest and sage. 
 He had great delight many times with rough 
 
 descendant of the Cardinal, tells us, that, it was by the 
 Archbishop's " contrivance and management, the two 
 houses of York and Lancaster were united ; whereby that 
 issue of blood was stopped which had so long and plenti- 
 fully flowed within the bowels of this our native country." 
 See Barwick's Life of the Bishop, p. 6l. edit. London, 4to. 
 1660. 
 
 The Archbishop was a general patron of literature, for 
 we find many early printed books dedicated to him : 
 among others, there is a very rare one by Holt, a school- 
 master, printed without date or printer's name, but from 
 the typography, I should suppose it to be Wynkyn de 
 Worde's. It is called " Lac Puerorum, Mylke for Chyl- 
 dren :" this title is over a wood cut of a schoolmaster sur- 
 rounded t by his boys. On the reverse of the title is the de- 
 dication to Morton, with some Latin verses by More, 
 when he was a young man— subscribed " Thome More 
 diserti adolescentuli in lucubraciunculas Holtiade Epi- 
 gramma." 
 
1 o o k i .] the Description of Utopia. 4 7 
 
 speech to his suitors, to prove, but without 
 harm, what prompt wit and what bold spirit 
 were in every man. In the which, as in 
 a virtue much agreeing with his nature, so 
 that therewith were not joined impudency, 
 he took great delectation. And the same 
 person as apt and meet to have an admini- 
 stration in the weal-public, he did lovingly 
 embrace. In his speech he was fine, elo- 
 quent, and pithy. In the law he had pro- 
 found knowledge ; in wit, he was incom- 
 parable ; and in memory wonderful excel- 
 lent. These qualities, which in him were 
 by nature singular, he by learning and use 
 had made perfect. The king put much trust 
 in his counsel, the weal-public also in a man- 
 ner leaned unto him, when I was there : for 
 even in the chief of his youth, he was taken 
 from school into the court, and there passed 
 all his time in much trouble and business, 
 being continually tumbled and tossed in the 
 waves of divers misfortunes and adversities. 
 And so by many and great dangers, he 
 learned the experience of the world, which, 
 so being learned, cannot easily be forgotten. 
 
48 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 It chanced on a certain day, when I sat at 
 his table,* there was also a certain layman, 
 cunning in the laws of your realm : who, 
 I cannot tell, whereof taking occasion, began 
 diligently and earnestly to praise that strait 
 
 * By introducing the ensuing discussion at the Cardinal's 
 table, More takes an opportunity of paying a compliment 
 to his first patron and friend, Morton ; in whose house he 
 himself, when a young man, was received with great cour- 
 tesy and kindness " For the Cardinall often would make 
 trial of [More's] his pregnant wit, especially at Christ- 
 mas Merriments, when, having plays for recreation, this 
 youth would suddenly steppe up amongst the players, and 
 never studying before upon the matter, make often a part 
 of his own invention ; which was so witty and so full of 
 jests, that he alone made more sporte and laughter than all 
 the players besides; for which his towardliness, the Cardi- 
 nall delighted much in him, and would often say of him 
 unto diverse of the Nobilitie, who at sundry times dined 
 with him, that " that boy there waiting on him, whosoever 
 should live to see it, would prove a marvelous rare man /" 
 Great Grandson's Life, 4to. edit. 19> 20. Hoddesdon's 
 Life, p. 3. 
 
 Almost the whole of this first book, which may be called 
 rather An introduction to the history of Utopia, is supposed 
 to be the conversation which passed at the Cardinal's 
 table, between the Cardinal, Hythloday, a Lawyer, Friar, 
 &c. &c. 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 49 
 
 and rigorous justice, which at that time was 
 there executed upon felonies ; who, as he said, 
 were, for the most part, twenty hanged toge- 
 ther upon one gallows ! And, seeing so few 
 escaped punishment, he said he could not 
 choose but greatly wonder and marvel how 
 and by what evil luck it should so come to pass, 
 that thieves nevertheless were in every place 
 so rife * and so rank." " Nay, Sir, quoth I (for 
 I durst boldly speak my mind, before the 
 Cardinal), marvel nothing hereat : for this 
 punishment of thieves passeth the limits of 
 justice, and is also very hurtful to the 
 weal-public :t for it is too extreme and cruel 
 a punishment for theft, and yet not sufficient 
 to restrain and withhold men from theft : for 
 
 * Sanguinary : from the Saxon to thrust, or stab. 
 
 f This is a very judicious observation. — More saw, 
 even in his own times, when the penal laws were not so 
 multiplied in this country as they are at present, that many 
 of our punishments were disproportionate to the offences 
 for which they were inflicted. Montesquieu, Beccaria, 
 Blackstone, and other legal writers, have supported the 
 same opinion. It is the certainty, and not the severity, of 
 punishment which operates against the commission or re- 
 petition of crime. " If we enquire," says the profound 
 H 
 
50 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 simple theft is not so great an offence, that it 
 ought to be punished with death ; neither is 
 there any punishment so horrible that it can 
 keep them from stealing which have none 
 other craft whereby to get their living. 
 Therefore in this point, not you only, but also 
 the most part of the world, be like evil school- 
 masters, which be readier to beat than to 
 teach their scholars. For great and horrible 
 punishments be appointed for thieves, where- 
 as, much rather, provision should have been 
 made that there were some means whereby 
 they might get their living ; so that no man 
 should be driven to this extreme necessity — 
 first to steal, and then to die." " Yes (quoth 
 he), this matter is well enough provided for 
 already. There be handy-crafts — there is- 
 husbandry to get their living, if they would 
 not willingly be naught." " Nay, quoth I, 
 you shall not escape so: for, first of all, I will 
 speak nothing of them that come home out of 
 the wars maimed and lame, as not long ago 
 
 Montesquieu, " into the causes of all human corruptions, we 
 shall find that they proceed from the impunity of criminals, 
 and not from the moderation of punishments." Sp. Laws, 
 book, vi. ch. xii. 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 51 
 
 out of Blackheath * field, and a little before 
 that, out of the wars in France : such, I say, 
 as put their lives in jeopardy for the weal- 
 publics, or the kind's sake, and by reason 
 of weakness and lameness be not able to oc- 
 cupy their old crafts, and be too aged to 
 learn new— of them I will speak nothing ; 
 forasmuch as war, like the tide, ebbeth and 
 floweth. 
 
 But let us consider those things that 
 chance daily before our eyes. First, there 
 is a great number of gentlemen which can- 
 not be content to live idle themselves, like 
 dorrers,+ of that which other have laboured 
 for — their tenants, I mean ; whom they poll 
 and shave to the quick, by raising their 
 rents (for this only point of frugality do 
 
 * " k Cornubiensi prcelio" in the original ; which Burnet 
 and Warner translate " the Cornish rebellion." The 
 Cornish rebels marched as far as Black Heath, where 
 they gave battle to the king's forces, and were defeated 
 with great slaughter. 
 
 t Drones; in the modern translation. The substan- 
 tive " Dorrers" is of rare occurrence. Dr. Johnson says 
 that the verb " To dorr," [a Teutonick word, from Tor, 
 stupid] he found only in Skinner. More's expression is 
 11 tanquam./itci'," which Robinson has translated as above. 
 
52 Introductory Discourse to [book. i. 
 
 they use, men else, through their lavish and 
 prodigal spending, able to bring themselves 
 to very beggary) ; these gentlemen, I say, 
 do not only live in idleness themselves, but 
 also carry about with them at their tails, 
 a great flock or train of idle and loitering 
 serving-men, which never learned any craft 
 whereby to get their livings.* These men, 
 as soon as their master is dead, or be sick 
 themselves, be incontinently thrust out of 
 
 * It would be well if our nobility and people of fashion 
 would consider the great injury they do to the public, by 
 retaining so many young and able men in their service ; 
 who do nothing, and have nothing to do, but to wear a 
 livery ; to loll behind a coach ; to learn the follies and vices 
 of their masters in their conversations at table ; and when 
 they are dismissed a service for their dishonesty, scarcely 
 any thing else being thought a crime, either go upon the 
 highway, or at best take a public-house, and make it a nur- 
 sery and place of resort for all manner of wickedness. 
 This multiplicity of idle servants, which in the present age 
 is almost a nuisance, takes many useful hands from the 
 public, who might be employed to great advantage in agri- 
 culture, and the navy ; in both which such hands are ex- 
 tremely wanted. But we seem to be so infatuated, that 
 nothing will awaken us from our luxury, and national folly, 
 till it is too late for any purpose but to feel our misery. 
 
 Warner. 
 
book i.J the Description of Utopia. 53 
 
 doors : for gentlemen had rather keep idle 
 persons, than sick men, and many times the 
 dead man's heir is not able to maintain sogreat 
 a house, and keep so many serving-men as his 
 father did. Then in the mean season, they 
 that be thus destitute of service, either starve 
 for hunger or manfully play the thieves :* 
 for what would you have them to do ? When 
 they have wandered abroad so long, until 
 they have worn threadbare their apparel, and 
 also impaired their health ; then gentlemen, 
 because of their pale and sickly faces and 
 patched coats, will not take them into ser- 
 vice : and husbandmen dare not set them 
 a work ; knowing well enough, that he is 
 nothing meet to do true and faithful service 
 to a poor man with a spade and mattock for 
 
 * Robbery was sufficiently prevalent in these times ; for 
 22,000 criminals are supposed to have been executed dur- 
 ing Henry the Eighth's reign. Hollinsbed, [pp. 186, 199, 
 and 246,] is quoted by Dr. Henry to prove that theft was 
 in some measure regarded as an occupation, U of which 
 the guilt might be extenuated by courage and success !" 
 See the latter's Hist, of Great Britain, vol. xii. p. 362. 
 8vo. edit. 1799» h is said, at page 55 (post.), " Thieves 
 be not the most false and faint-hearted soldiers," &c, 
 
 v 
 
54 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 small wages and hard fare, which, being 
 daintily and tenderly pampered up in idle- 
 ness and pleasure, was wont with a * sword 
 and a buckler by his side, to jet through the 
 street with a bragging look, and to think 
 himself too good to be any man's mate. 
 
 * This is a curious picture of the customs of the times 
 as relating to the Dresses of Servants. We are told by 
 Fitzherbert, a contemporaneous writer, that " Men's ser- 
 vants have suche pleytes upon theyr brestes, and ruffes 
 upon their sieves, above theyr elbowes, that yf theyr may- 
 ster, or theymselfe, hadde never so greatte neede, they 
 coulde not shoote one shote to hurte theyr ennemyes, tyll 
 they had cast of theyr cotes, or cut of theyr sieves." See 
 his Husbandry, p. 96, and consult Strutt's Antiq. vol. iii. 
 75. Such, however, was the capriciousness of the national 
 dress at this time, that according to Camden, p. 17, it was 
 represented by the naked figure of an Englishmen, " in a 
 musing posture, with sheers in his hand, and cloth on his 
 arm, perplexed amidst a multiplicity of fashions, and 
 uncertain how to devise his garments." Consult Dr. Henry's 
 Hist, of Gr. Britain, vol. xii. 37O.ed.i799. videp.64. post. 
 
 The words of More are, " solitus sit accinctus acinace 
 ac cetra, totam viciniam vultu nebulonico despicere," &c. 
 which describe a more gorgeous dress : '* Acinaces" 
 means a Persian scymitar, and is so used by Horace in 
 lib. i. Od. xxvii. v. 5. See Watson's note upon this ex- 
 pression, ed. 1750. vol. i. 114. [4.] 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 55 
 
 Nay, by Saint Mary, Sir (quoth the lawyer), 
 not so : for this kind of men must we make 
 most of; for in them, as men of stouter sto- 
 machs, bolder spirits, and manlier courages 
 than handy craftsmen and ploughmen be, 
 doth consist the whole power, strength, and 
 puissance of our army, when we must fight in 
 battle." " Forsooth, Sir, as well you might 
 say (quoth I), that for wars sake you must 
 cherish thieves : for surely you shall never 
 lack thieves, whilst you have them. No, 
 nor thieves be not the most false and faint- 
 hearted soldiers, nor soldiers be not the 
 cowardliest thieves : so well these two crafts 
 agree together. But this fault, though it be 
 much used among you, yet is it not peculiar 
 to you only, but common also almost to all 
 nations. Yet France besides this is troubled 
 and infected with a much sorer plague. The 
 whole realm is filled and besieged with 
 hired soldiers in peace time (if that be peace) 
 which be brought in under the same colour 
 and pretence, that hath persuaded you to 
 keep these idle serving-men. For these 
 wise-fools and very arch dolts, thought the 
 
56 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 wealth of the whole country herein to con- 
 sist, if there were ever in readiness a strong 
 and a sure garrison, specially of old practised 
 soldiers ; for they put no trust at all in men 
 unexercised. And therefore they must be 
 fain to seek for war, to the end that they 
 may ever have practised soldiers, and cunning 
 man-slayers, least that (as it is prettily said 
 of Sallust) their hands and their minds 
 through idleness or lack of exercise should 
 wax dull. 
 
 But how pernicious and pestilent a thing 
 it is to maintain such beasts, the Frenchmen 
 by their own arms have learned ; and the 
 examples of the Romans, Carthaginians, 
 Syrians, and of many other countries, do 
 manifestly declare. For not only the empire, 
 but also the fields and cities of all these, by 
 divers occasions have been over-run and 
 destroyed of their own armies, before hand 
 had in readiness. Now, how unnecessary 
 a thing this is, hereby it may appear: that 
 the French soldiers, which from their youth 
 have been practised and inured in feats of 
 arms, do not crack or advance themselves to 
 
book i.] the Description oj Utopia. 57 
 
 have very often got the upper hand and 
 mastery of your new made and unpractised 
 soldiers. But in this point I will not use 
 many words, least perchance I may seem to 
 flatter you. No, nor those same handy craft- 
 men of yours in cities, nor yet the rude and 
 uplandish ploughmen of the country, are 
 not supposd to be greatly afraid of your 
 gentlemen's idle serving-men, unless it be 
 such as be not of body or stature correspon- 
 dent to their strength and courage ; or else 
 whose bold stomachs be discouraged through 
 poverty. Thus you. may see, that it is not 
 to be feared least they should be effeminated, 
 if they were brought up in good crafts and 
 "laboursome works, whereby to get their 
 livings, whose stout and sturdy bodies (for 
 gentlemen vouchsafe to corrupt and spoil 
 none but picked and chosen men) now, 
 either by reason of rest and idleness, be 
 brought to weakness : or else by too easy 
 and womanly exercises, be made feeble and 
 unable to endure hardness. Truly howso- 
 ever the case standeth, this, me thinketh, is 
 nothing available to the weal-public, for war 
 
 i 
 
58 Introductory Discourse to [book I. 
 
 sake ; which you never have, but when you 
 will yourselves ; to keep and maintain an in- 
 numerable flock of that sort of men, that be 
 so troublesome and noyous in peace, whereof 
 you ought to have a thousand times more 
 regard than of war. But yet this is not only 
 the necessary cause of stealing. There is 
 another, which, as I suppose, is proper 
 and peculiar to you Englishmen alone." 
 " What is that," quoth the Cardinal ? " For- 
 sooth, my Lord" (quoth I) your sheep, 
 that were wont to be so meek and tame, and 
 so small eaters ; now, as I hear say, be become 
 so great devourers, and so wild, that they eat 
 up and swallow down the very men them- 
 selves. They consume, destroy, and devour 
 whole fields, houses, and cities : for Jook, in 
 what parts of the realm doth grow the finest, 
 and therefore dearest wool — there, noblemen 
 and gentlemen, yea, and certain abbots, holy 
 men, no doubt, not contenting themselves 
 with the yearly revenues and profits that 
 were wont to grow to their forefathers and 
 predecessors of their lands, nor being content 
 that they live in rest and pleasure, nothing 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia, 59 
 
 profiting — yea, much noying the weal-pub- 
 lic, leave no ground for tillage : they inclose 
 all into pastures ; they throw down houses ; 
 they pluck down towns, and leave nothing 
 standing, but only the church to be made 
 a sheep-house.* And, as though you lost no 
 small quantity of ground by forests, chases, 
 lands, and parks, those good holy men 
 turn all dwelling places, and all glebe land, 
 into desolation and wilderness. 
 
 Therefore it is, that one covetous and un- 
 satiable cormorant and very plague of his 
 native country, may compass about and in- 
 close many thousand acres of ground toge- 
 ther within one pale or hedge : the husband- 
 men be thrust out of their own, or else 
 
 * More, in this place, alludes to luxuriancy of eating as 
 well as of clothing. " The tables were (at this time) more 
 luxurious and expensive than formerly ; distinguished by 
 the variety of delicate viands, as well as by the quantity of 
 substantial fare ; and Polydore Virgil (a contemporary) 
 expatiates with visible complacency on the various plea- 
 sures of those tables at which he had feasted; on the 
 juicy flavor of the mutton, and the sweetness of the beef, 
 especially when slightly salted, &c." See Dr. Henry Hist, 
 of Great Britain, vol. xii. p. 375. 
 
60 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 either by covin and fraud, or violent oppres- 
 sion, they be put besides it; or by wrongs 
 and injuries they be so wearied, that they be 
 compelled to sell all. By one means there- 
 fore or by other, either by hook or by 
 crook,* they must needs depart away — poor, 
 silly, wretched souls ! men, women, hus- 
 bands, wives, fatherless children, widows, 
 woeful mothers with their young babes, and 
 the whole household small in substance, and 
 much in number : as husbandry requireth 
 many hands- 
 
 Away they trudge, I say, out of their 
 known and accustomed houses, finding no 
 
 * u By hook or crook," so in the edition of 1551. Dr. 
 Johnson adds the authorities only of Hudibras and 
 Dryden to his definition of this expression. T. Warton 
 in a note to his Faery Queen, combats the assertion that it 
 first occurred as a proverb in Charles the First's time; for 
 he adduces the authorities of Spenser and Skelton. Mr. 
 Todd, whose researches into English literature have been 
 equalled by few of our lexicographers or commentators, 
 tells us that the above expression occurs in B. Riche's 
 Simonides, 1584; and in Hawes's Hist, of La Bel Pucell, 
 fyc. 1554 ;— but even this latter critic seems not to have 
 been aware of Ralph Robinson's authority. See Todd's 
 Spenser, vol. vi. 39. 
 
book I.] the Description of Utopia. 61 
 
 place to rest in. All their household 
 stuff, which is very little worth, though 
 it might well abide the sale ; yet, being sud- 
 denly thrust out, they be constrained to sell 
 it for a thing of nought. And when they 
 have wandered abroad till that be spent, 
 what can they then do but steal, and then 
 justly, pardjr, be hanged, or else go about 
 a begging? And yet then also they be 
 cast into prison as vagabonds, because they 
 go about and work not : whom no man 
 will set at work, though they never so 
 willingly proffer themselves thereto. For 
 one shepherd or herdsman is enough to eat 
 up that ground with cattle, to the occupying 
 whereof about husbandry many hands were 
 requisite. And this is also the cause why 
 victuals be now in many places dearer.* 
 Yea, besides this, the price of wool is so 
 risen, that poor folks, which were wont to 
 
 * The grievance complained of in this article, was at 
 that time complained of justly; and it was at last so 
 severely felt, that the legislature was obliged to interpose 
 with acts of parliament to promote tillage and husbandry, 
 and to prevent the lands in England from being almost all 
 converted into pasture ; perhaps we are running now into 
 
62 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 work it, and make cloth thereof, he now 
 able to buy none at all. And by this means 
 very many be forced to forsake work, and 
 to give themselves to idleness. 
 
 For after that so much ground was in- 
 closed for pasture, an infinite multitude of 
 sheep died of the rot ; such vengeance God 
 took of their inordinate and unsatiable cove- 
 tousness, sending among the sheep that pes- 
 tiferous murrain, which much more justly 
 should have fallen on the sheep-masters own 
 heads ! And though the number of sheep 
 increase never so fast, yet the price falleth 
 not one mite, because there be so few sel- 
 lers : for they be almost all come into a few 
 rich men's hands, whom no need forceth to 
 
 an extreme on the other hand — as in this country we gene- 
 rally do. Warner. 
 This observation, by Dr. Warner, was written fifty 
 years ago. — It would be difficult to mention any country, 
 ancient or modern, where husbandry of all kinds is so 
 scientifically understood, and so successfully practised as it 
 is at present in this country ! The Agricultural and 
 Cattle Societies, whatever may be the partial feelings 
 of a few individuals, are established on a very wise foot- 
 ing, and have produced extensive good to all classes of 
 Society. 
 
book I-] the Description of Utopia. 63 
 
 sell before they lust, and they lust not be- 
 fore they may sell as dear as they lust. Now 
 the same cause bringeth in like dearth of the 
 other kinds of cattle ; yea, and that so much 
 the more, because that, after farms plucked 
 down and husbandry decayed, there is no 
 man that passeth for the breeding of young 
 store : for these rich men bring not up the 
 young ones of great cattle as they do lambs. 
 
 * But first they buy them abroad very 
 cheap, and afterward when they be fatted in 
 their pastures, they sell them again exceed- 
 ing dear. And therefore (as 1 suppose) the 
 whole incommodity hereof is not yet felt : 
 for yet they make dearth only in those 
 places were they sell. But when they shall 
 fetch them away from thence where they 
 be bred faster than they can be brought up, 
 then shall there also be felt great dearth ; 
 store beginning there to fail, where the 
 ware is bought. Thus the unreasonable 
 
 * This part of the narrative, disclosing the ancient cus- 
 toms of purchasing of cattle, &c. is extremely interesting. 
 More's Utopia is, in every respect, a very valuable re- 
 cord of some of the prevalent customs of the time* when 
 it was written. 
 
64 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 covetousness of a few hath turned that thing 
 to the utter undoing of your island, in the 
 which thing the chief felicity of your realm 
 did consist : for this great dearth of victuals 
 causeth men to keep as little houses, and as 
 small hospitality as they possibly may, and 
 to put away their servants — whither, I pray 
 you, but a begging ? or else, which these 
 gentle bloods, and stout stomachs wiJl sooner 
 set their minds unto — stealing ? Now to 
 amend the matter, to this wretched beg- 
 gary and miserable poverty, is joined great 
 wantonness, importunate superfluity, and 
 excessive riot : for not only gentlemen's 
 servants, but also handy craftmen, yea, and 
 almost the ploughmen of the country with 
 all other sorts of people, use much strange 
 and proud new-fangles in their apparel*, and 
 
 * It would appear from Roger Ascham, that this 
 " strange and proud new-fangled apparel," among the 
 common classes of society, was equally prevalent in the 
 reign of Elizabeth ; and that it originated at court. " If," 
 says he, " three or foure great ones in courte will nedes 
 outrage in apparell, in huge hose, in monstrous hattes, in 
 gaurishe colours — let the prince proclame, make lawes, 
 order, punishe, commaunde everie gate in London dailie to 
 
book i,] the Description of Utopia. 65 
 
 too much prodigal riot, and sumptuous fare 
 at their table. 
 
 Now bawds, queans*, whores, harlots, strum- 
 pets, brothel-houses, stews ; and yet another 
 stews, wine-taverns, ale-houses, and tipling- 
 housest, with so many naughty, lewd, and 
 
 be watched ; let all good men beside do everie where 
 what they can ; surely the misorder of apparell in mean 
 men abrode, shall never be amended except the greatest in 
 courte will order and amend themselves first." School- 
 master, p. 243. Bennet's edit. 
 
 * Junius, the Etymologist, was of opinion that this word 
 always signified a bad woman : Sibbald, however, in the glos- 
 sary to his Chronicle of Scotish Poetry, says it has not 
 always that signification. Bishop Percy, in the glossary 
 to the third volume of his Reliques, ed. 17£H, defines it 
 " sorry base woman." Mr. G. Chalmers, whose autho- 
 rity is preferable to either, says, in his glossary to Sir 
 David Lyndsuy's Works, vol. iii. 434, that it means "a 
 wench, a woman ;" from the Saxon, quen, quaen. 
 
 There can be no doubt about the sense in which More 
 and his translators made use of the word. Robinson spells 
 it " qweynes." 
 
 f "Tabernaevinariae,cervisiara3:" literally" wine taverns, 
 and ale-house keepers." — If we are to judge from contem- 
 porary history, and from the statutes that have been 
 progressively enacted against the vices above complained of, 
 we shall find that they were very serious and general evils ; 
 K 
 
66 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 but the evil of ale-house keeping, in particular, has been 
 long known and regretted in this country. 
 
 What sort of human beings the Hosts were in former days 
 may be seen from numberless instances in Shakspeare — 
 their profligacy seems to have been forgiven, or forgotten, in 
 that species of licentious wit and boisterous mirth in which 
 they loved to indulge, and which appears to have charmed 
 their auditors. The conceit of these fellows was equal to 
 their ignorance and immorality. — " An Host," says Sir 
 Thomas Overbury, [two hundred years ago,] " is the kernel 
 of asign; or thesign is the shell, and mine host is the snail. 
 Hee consists of double beere and fellowship, and his vices 
 are the bawds of his thirst. Hee entertains humbly, and 
 gives his guests power, as well of himself, as house. He 
 answers all men's expectations to his power, save in the 
 reckoning ; and hath gotten the trick of greatness to lay 
 all mis-likes upon his servants. His wife is the Cummin -seed 
 of his dove-house, and to be a good guest is a warrant for 
 her liberty. Hee traffiques forguests by men's friends friend's 
 friend, and is sensible onely of his purse. In a word, hee is 
 none of his own ; for he neither eats, drinks, or thinkes, but 
 at other men's charges and appointments." Sir Thomas 
 Overbury's Wife, and Characters, edit.lfj30; and see note in 
 Preliminary Epistle, p. 14 ante. 
 
 In the time of Edward VI. these " tabernce vinarice" ap- 
 pear to have been admired for their accommodations, and 
 to have brought wealth to their owners. We have been 
 favoured with a description of one, 1 50 years ago, by the 
 entertaining author of Micro-cosmographie, ed. 1664. 
 
 " A Tavern, 
 Is a degree, or (if you will) a paire of stairs above an 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 67 
 
 alehouse, where men are drunk with more credit and 
 apologie. If the Vintner's nose be at the door, it is a sign 
 sufficient ; but the absence of this is supplied by the Ivie- 
 bush. The rooms are ill breathed like the drinkers that 
 have been washed well over night, and are smelt too fasting 
 the next morning. Not furnished with beds apt to be defiled, 
 but with more necessary implements, stools, table, and a 
 chamber pot. It is a broacher of more news than hogsheads, 
 and more jests than news; which are sucked up here by 
 some spungy brain, and from thence squeezed into a comedie. 
 Men come here to make merry, but indeed make a noise, 
 and this music above is answered with the clinking below. 
 The Drawers are the civillest people in it, men of good 
 bringing up ; and howsoever we esteem of them, none can 
 boast more justly of their high calling. It is the best 
 theatre of nature, where the parts are truly acted, not 
 played ; and the business, as in the rest of the world, up 
 and down ; to wit, from the bottom of the cellar to the 
 great chamber. A melancholy man would find matters to 
 work upon, to see heads as brittle as glasses, and as often 
 broken. Men come hither to quarrel, and come hither to be 
 made friends ; and if Plutarch will lend me his simile, it is 
 even Telephus's sword that makes wounds and cures them. 
 It is the common consumption of the afternoon, and the 
 murderer, or maker away, of a rainy day. It is the Torrid 
 Zone that scorches the face, and tobacco the gunpowder 
 that blows it up. Much harm would be done if the 
 charitable vintner had not water ready for the flames. A 
 house of sin you may call it, but not a house of darkness, 
 for the candles are never out ; and it is like those countries 
 farre in the north, where it is as clear at midnight as at 
 
68 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 unlawful games; as dice, cards,* tables, tennis, 
 bowls, coyts ; + do not all these send the 
 
 mid-day. After a long sitting, it becomes like a street in a 
 dashing showre, where the spouts are flushing above, and 
 the conduits running below, while the Jordans, like swelling 
 rivers, overflow their banks. To give the totall reckoning of 
 it, it is the busy man's recreation, the idle man's business, 
 the melancholy man's sanctuary, the inn-a-court man's 
 entertainment, the scholar's kindness, and the citizen's cour- 
 tesie. It is the study of sparkling wits, and a cup of 
 sparkling sherry their book — where we leave them." See p. 
 62. of this witty and well written little book of" Essayes 
 and Characters." 
 
 * " Had our author lived in these days, when gaming is 
 almost the only business of people of fashion, and that not 
 for running cash of the pocket, but for whole patrimonies ; 
 
 when a majority of the two houses of P 1 have formed 
 
 themselves into a club — even against the ties of differing 
 parties — to establish it as a science, he might perhaps 
 have seen reason to think that gaming was so far from 
 being a pernicious practice, that it was the only thing 
 which could save a sinking nation from absolute ruin : or 
 else that so considerable a body of men, of such rank, such 
 patriotism, and such political attainments, would not unite 
 in it so openly against the 1 s of the land." Wakner. 
 
 Are the times now altered ? St. James's-street will best 
 resolve this question. Six gaming-houses in one street 
 form no symptoms of the decline of cards, dice, &c. 
 
 f We are told, in a nearly contemporary treatise, 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 6"9 
 
 haunters of them straight a stealing, when 
 their money is gone? Cast out these per- 
 
 written by Lemnius, that the principal amusements of 
 the stronger Englishmen, about this time, were " wrestling, 
 coytinge, tennis, bowlinge, whorlebattinge, lifting great 
 waightes, pitching the barre, ryding, running, leapinge, 
 shooting in gunnes, swymming, tossing the pike, iyltinge 
 barryers and tourney:" the gentler exercises were " to be 
 caryed in wagons, rowed in boates, singinge and musicall 
 melodie : and if thereto be used a cleare and lowde 
 readinge of bigge tuned soundes by stoppes and certayne 
 pauses, as our comical fellows now do, that measure rhe- 
 torick by their peevish rhythmes, it will bring exceeding 
 much good to the breast and muscles." 
 
 Perhaps the most curious book, descriptive of the man- 
 ners and customs of the English in these times, is the one 
 called, u Description des Royaulmes d' Anglettere et 
 d'Ecosse. Par. 1558. Reprinted with notes, Lond. 4to. 
 1775. See Mr. Ellis's Spec. Engl. Poet. vol. 1, p. 332. The 
 following passage, however, from Lemnius, is too amusing 
 to be withheld from the reader. 
 
 " Thepavemcnts,"says he," are sprinkled upon, and floores 
 cooled wyth springing water, and then strewed with sedge, 
 and the parlours trimmed up with greene boughs, freshe 
 herbes or vyne leaves — which thinges no nations do more 
 decently, more trymmely, nor more sightly then they do in 
 Englande. For they [the English] be people very civill 
 and wel-affected to men well stryken in yeares, and to such 
 as beare any countenance and estimation of learninge ; 
 therefore, francklye to utter what Ithincke of the incredible 
 
70 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 nicious abominations ; make a law that they 
 which pluck down farms, and towns of hus- 
 bandry, shall re-edify them, or else yield, and 
 uprender, the possession thereof to such as 
 will go to the cost of building them anew. 
 
 curtesie and friendlinesse in speache and affabilitie used in 
 this famous royalme, I muste needes confesse, it doth sur- 
 mount and carye away the pricke and price of al others. 
 And besyde this, the neate cleanlines, the exquisite finenesse, 
 the pleasaunte and delightfull/ttrraiVure in every point for 
 household, wonderfully rejoyced mee ; their chambers and 
 parlours, strawed over with sweet herbes, refreshed me ; 
 their nosegayes finelye entermingled wyth sondry sortes of 
 fragraunte floures, in their bedchambers and privie roomes, 
 with comfortable smell cheered mee up, and entierlye 
 delighted all my sences : and this do I think to be the 
 cause y* Englishmen, lyving by such holsome and exquisite 
 mcate, and in so holesome and exquisite ayre, be so freshe 
 and cleane coloured ; their faces, eyes, and countenance, 
 carying with it, and representing, a portly grace and 
 comelynesse, geveth out evident tokens of an honest mind: 
 in language very smooth and allective, but yet seasoned 
 and tempered within the limits and bonds of moderation; 
 not bumbasted with any unseemely termes, or inforced with 
 any clawing flatteries or allurements. At their tables they 
 be verye sumptuous, and love to have good fare ; yet nei- 
 ther use they to overcharge themselves with excesse of 
 drincke, neither thereto greatly provoke and urge others, 
 but suffer every man to drincke in such measure as beste 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 71 
 
 Suffer not these rich men to buy up all, to 
 ingross, and forestall,* and with their mono- 
 poly to keep the market alone as please them. 
 
 pleaseth himselfe ; which drinck [being eyther ale or beere] 
 most pleasaunt in taste and holesomely relyced, they fetch 
 not from foreine places, but have it amonge themselves 
 brewed ! 
 
 This account was originally written in Latin by L^vinus 
 LEMNius,f a foreign physician, on his visit to England in 
 the sixteenth century, and was translated into English byTho- 
 mas Newton. 8vo.l 576, under the title of "The Touchstone 
 of Complexions," &c. See Mr. Brydges's Censura Literaria, 
 vol. vi. 52. [No. ix. New Series] where there is a still 
 longer extract from the original work. Mr. Haslewood is 
 said to be in possession of the first English edit, of 1576. 
 
 * About seven years ago, the subject of forestalling made 
 a great noise in this country : the memorable trial at Wor- 
 cester did not, however, settle the question, although the 
 forestaller was found guilty. Two of the ablest judges in the 
 land differed in their opinions about the practice ; by the 
 one it was called criminal, by the other it was deemed fair, 
 and of course unpunishable. , 
 
 f Lemnius, a celebrated physician, was born in Zea- 
 land A. D. 1505, and died about the year 1568. There 
 is an interesting account of him in Foppens's Bibliotheca 
 Belgica, where he is called " Vir in praxi exercitatus, et 
 omnino felix ; comis etaffabilis omnibus ; aegros suos jocis 
 facetiisque, honestis tamen, saepe non parum recreare ac 
 sublevare solitus. Statural medial et quadrata, statu corporis 
 
72 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 Let not so many be brought up in idleness ; 
 Jet husbandry and tillage be restored : let 
 cloth-working be renewed, that there may be 
 honest labours for this idle sort to pass their 
 time in profitably, which hitherto either po- 
 verty hath caused to be thieves, or else now 
 be either vagabonds, or idle serving-men, and 
 shortly will be thieves. Doubtless, unless 
 you find a remedy for these enormities, you 
 shall in vain advance yourselves of executing 
 justice upon felons : for this justice is more 
 beautiful in appearance, and more flourishing 
 to the shew, than either just or profitable : 
 for by suffering your youth wantonly, and 
 viciously to be brought up, and to be infected, 
 even from their tender age, by little and little 
 with vice ; then a God's name to be punished, 
 when they commit the same faults after being 
 come to man's state, which from their youth 
 they were ever like to do — in this point, I 
 pray you, what other thing do you than 
 make thieves, and then punish them ?" 
 
 incessuque erecto, forma faciei ac fronte serena. Scripsit, 
 (says Foppens,) eleganti ac masculo stilo varia." Vide torn. 
 11. 792. His writings are then enumerated, but the above 
 work seems t© have escaped Foppens. 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 73 
 
 Now, as I was thus speaking, the lawyer 
 began to make himself ready to answer, and 
 was determined with himself to use the com- 
 mon fashion and trade of disputers, which be 
 more diligent in rehearsing, than answering, 
 as thinking the memory worthy of the chief 
 praise. " Indeed, Sir (quoth he), you have 
 said well, being but a stranger, and one that 
 might rather hear something of these matters, 
 than have any exact or perfect knowledge of 
 the same — as I will incontinent, by open 
 proof, make manifest and plain. For first I 
 will rehearse in order all that you have said ; 
 then I will declare wherein you be deceived, 
 through lack of knowledge, in all our fashions, 
 manners, and customs ; and last of all, I will 
 answer your arguments, and confute them 
 every one. First, therefore, I will begin 
 where I promised. Four things, you seemed to 
 me" — Hold your peace (quoth the Cardi- 
 nal), for it appeareth that you will make no 
 short answer which make such a beginning — 
 Wherefore at this time, you shall not take 
 the pains to make your answer, but keep it 
 to your next meeting, which I would be right 
 L 
 
74 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 glad that it might be to-morrow next, unless 
 either you, or Master Raphael, have earnest 
 let.* But now, Master Raphael, I would very 
 gladly hear of you, why you think theft not 
 worthy to be punished with death, or what 
 other punishment you can devise more ex- 
 pedient to the weal-public ? For I am sure 
 that you are not of that mind, thatyou would 
 have theft escape unpunished. For if now 
 the extreme punishment of death cannot cause 
 them to leave stealing, and if ruffians and 
 robbers should be sure of their lives, what 
 violence, what fear, were able to hold their 
 hands from' robbing — which would take the 
 mitigation of the punishment, as a very pro- 
 vocation to the mischief?" 
 
 " Surely, my lord, I think it not right nor 
 justice, that the loss of money should cause 
 the loss of man's life : for mine opinion is, that 
 all the goods in the world are not able to 
 countervail man's life. But if they would thus 
 
 * The old word for hindrance — any thing to prevent — 
 it is the common word inserted in law-deeds. The 
 lessee is to enjoy the land or tenement " without any 
 let, suit, or hindrance," &c. from the lessor. 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 75 
 
 say ; that the breaking of justice, and the 
 transgression of laws is recompensed with 
 this punishment, and not the loss of the 
 money, then why may not this extreme and 
 rigorous justice well be called plain injury ? 
 For so cruel governance, so strait rules, 
 and unmerciful laws be not allowable, that 
 if a small offence be committed, by and by 
 the sword should be drawn : nor so stoical 
 ordinances are to be born withal, as to count 
 all offences of such equality, that the killing 
 of a man, or the taking of his money from 
 him, were both one matter, and the one no 
 more heinous offence than the other : between 
 the which two, if we have any respect to equity, 
 no similitude or equality consisteth. God 
 commandeth us that we shall not kill. And 
 be we then so hasty to kill a man for taking a 
 little money ? And ifa man would understand 
 killing by this commandment of God, to be 
 forbidden after no larger wise than man's 
 constitutions define killing to be lawful ; then, 
 why may it not likewise by man's constitutions 
 be determined after what sort whoredom, for- 
 nication, and perjury may be lawful ? For 
 
76 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 whereas by the permission of God, no man 
 neither hath power to kill neither himself", 
 nor yet any other man : then if a law made 
 by the consent of men, concerning slaughter 
 of men, ought to be of such strength, force, 
 and virtue, that they which, contrary to the 
 commandment of God, have killed those whom 
 this constitution of man commanded to be 
 killed, be clean quit and exempt out of the 
 bonds and danger of God's commandment ? 
 shall it then not by this reason follow, that the 
 power of God's commandment shall extend 
 no further, than man's laws doth define, and 
 permit ? And so shall it come to pass, that 
 in like manner, man's constitutions in all 
 things shall determine how far the observa- 
 tion of all God's commandments shall extend. 
 To be short, Moses' law, though it were un- 
 gentle and sharp, as a law that was given to 
 bondmen, yea, and them very obstinate, 
 stubborn, and stiff-necked — yet it punished 
 theft by the purse, and not with death. 
 
 And let us not think thai God in the new 
 law of clemency and mercy, under the which 
 he ruleth us with fatherly gentleness, as his 
 
book i.] the Description oj Utopia. 77 
 
 dear children, hath given us greater scope and 
 license to the execution of cruelty, one upon 
 another. Now you have heard the reasons, 
 whereby I am persuaded, that this punish- 
 ment is unlawful. Furthermore, I think that 
 there is nobody that knoweth not, how un- 
 reasonable, yea, how pernicious a thing it is 
 to the weal-public, that a thief and an homi- 
 cide or murderer should suffer equal and 
 like punishment : for the thief, seeing that 
 man that is condemned for theft in no less 
 jeopardy, nor judged to no less punishment, 
 than him that is convict of manslaughter, 
 through this cogitation only he is strongly 
 and forcibly provoked, and in a manner con- 
 strained to kill him, whom else he would 
 have but robbed : for the murder being once 
 done, he is in less fear, and in more hope that 
 the deed shall not be bewrayed or known, 
 seeing the party is now dead, and rid out of 
 the way, which only might have uttered and 
 disclosed it. But if he chance to be taken 
 and descried, yet he is in no more danger 
 and jeopardy than if he had committed but 
 single felony. Therefore, while we go about 
 
78 Introductory Discourse to [book i, 
 
 with such cruelty to make thieves afraid, we 
 provoke them to kill good men.* 
 
 Now as touching this question, what 
 punishment were more commodious and 
 
 * '* It has long been my opinion, that we presume too 
 much on our power of making laws, and too far infringe 
 on the command of God, by taking away the lives of men 
 in the manner we do in England, for theft and robbery ; 
 and that this is not only a pernicious error, for the reason 
 given, but a national abomination. It must be granted, 
 hat all societies have a power within themselves of making 
 laws to secure property, and of annexing punishments to 
 the breach of them : but then on the other hand, it must 
 be owned that no man, or body of men, can have power to 
 make laws which are contrary to the laws of God, or to 
 ordain such punishments for the breach of there as he hath 
 positively forbidden. It is to little purpose to urge, that 
 men may agree to give up their natural rights, for their 
 mutual benefit, and to hold their lives and liberties upon 
 certain terms and conditions, on the breach of which they 
 should be forfeited ; because, though this argument will 
 hold with regard to liberty and property, it will not hold 
 with regard to life ; of which God alone is the sole dis- 
 poser, and over which we have no right, in ourselves, or 
 other men. A robber in this country indeed sins with his 
 eyes open, and knows the penalty which he is going to 
 incur ; but the wilfulness of the crime is no sort of excuse 
 for making the punishment far exceed the heinousness of 
 the transgression : and who will deny that a little theft or 
 
book i .] the Description of Utopia. 7 9 
 
 better — that, truly, in my judgment is easier 
 
 robbery — perhaps of the value of two or three shillings 
 only — is not punished infinitely beyond a just proportion, 
 when it is punished with death ? 
 
 These laws, however, in my opinion, are not more abo- 
 minable, than they are ill contrived ; if this observation, 
 which men versed in affairs make, is true — that the riches 
 of a nation are in proportion to the number of hands em- 
 ployed in works of skill and labour. How many hands of 
 this sort, which might be so employed, in making sails and 
 cordage for the navy, in our fleets or dock-yards, in mend- 
 ing the highways, or converting waste lands into tillage, 
 are seut every sessions to Tyburn for theft and robbery, 
 the reader need not be told. The laws of God affix no 
 other punishment to these crimes than ample restitution, 
 or perpetual slavery ; a word of great horror in England, 
 where we boast so highly of our liberty : but it does not 
 require the spirit of prophecy to foresee, that this liberty, 
 which is now in many cases our misery, will some time or 
 other be our destruction. A confinement of this sort 
 to constant labour for the public — whatever name we 
 give it — would be dreaded worse than death by these 
 wretches, who have no idea of a future state ; and conse- 
 quently deter them more from the commission of such 
 crimes, which is the only reasonable end of punishment in 
 a state." Warner. 
 
 These reasons appear to be very solid and satisfactory: 
 not that I would hence infer we are to follow the ex- 
 ample of our old German ancestors ; who, according to 
 
80 Introductory Discourse to [book. i. 
 
 to be found than what punishment might be 
 
 Montesquieu, "admitted of none but pecuniary punishments,** 
 b. vi. c. xviii. although we are told by the same authority 
 that " in countries remarkable for the lenity of their laws, 
 the spirit of the inhabitants is as much affected by slight 
 penalties, as in other countries by severer punishments." 
 b. ii. c. xii. 
 
 " Punishment,"says Grotius,"in its general acception" is, 
 • malum passionis quod infligitur ob malum actionis — the 
 " the evil that we suffer for the evil that we do." " It is 
 therefore, says the wise and humane Blackstone, the enor- 
 mity, and dangerous tendency of the crime that alone can 
 warrant any earthly legislature in putting him to death 
 who commits it. It is not its frequency only, or the dif- 
 ficulty of otherwise preventing it, that will excuse our at- 
 tempting to prevent it by a wanton effusion of human blood. 
 For though the end of punishment is to deter men from 
 offending, it can never follow from thence, that it is lawful 
 to deter them at any rate and by any means ; since there 
 may be unlawful methods of enforcing obedience even to 
 the justest laws. Every humane legislature will be there- 
 fore extremely cautious of establishing laws that inflict the 
 penalty of death, especially for slight offences, or such as 
 are merely furtive." Commentaries on the Laws of Eng- 
 land, book iv. ch. i. edit. 1787. But the whole chapter, 
 which is short, is well deserving of serious perusal. 
 
 " An house of correction," says Grotius, " strikes more 
 terror into an idle rogue, than the gallows; and to be chained 
 to an oar, than death itself." Be Jure Bell, et Pac. 1. ii. c. xx. 
 
book I.] the Description of Utopia. 81 
 
 worse. For why should we doubt that to be a 
 good and a profitable way for the punishment 
 of offenders, which we know did in times past 
 so long please the Romans, men in the admi- 
 nistration of a weal-public most expert, politic 
 and cunning ? Such as among them were 
 convict of great and heinous trespasses, them 
 they condemn into stone quarries, and into 
 mines to dig metal, there to be kept in 
 chains all the days of their life. But as 
 concerning this matter, I allow the ordinance 
 of no nation so well as that which I saw, 
 whilst I travelled abroad about the world, 
 used in Persia, among the people that com- 
 monly be called the Polylerites ; whose land 
 is both large and ample, and also well and 
 wittily governed ; and the people in all 
 conditions free, and ruled by their own laws, 
 saving that they pay a yearly tribute to the 
 great king of Persia. 
 
 But because they be far from the sea, com- 
 passed and inclosed, almost round about, 
 with high mountains, they do content them- 
 selves with the fruits of their own land, 
 which is of itself very fair and fertile : 
 for this cause they go not to other coun- 
 
 M 
 
82 Introductory Discourse to [book I. 
 
 tries, nor do other come to them. And 
 according to the old custom of the land, 
 they desire not to enlarge the bounds of 
 their dominions : and those that they have, 
 by reason of the high hills, be easily de- 
 fended : and the tribute which they pay to 
 their chief lord and king, setteth them quit 
 and free from warfare. Thus their life is 
 commodious rather than gallant, and may 
 better be called happy or wealthy, than 
 notable and famous : for they be not known 
 as much as by name, I suppose, saving 
 only to their next neighbours and bor- 
 ders. They that in this land be attainted 
 and convict of felony, make restitution of 
 that which they stole to the right owner : 
 and not (as they do in other lands) to 
 the king : whom they think to have no 
 more right to the thief-stolen thing, than 
 the thief himself hath. But if the thing 
 be lost or made away, then the value of 
 it is paid of the goods of such offenders, 
 which else remaineth all whole to their 
 wives and children. And they themselves 
 be condemned to be common labourers ; and 
 if the theft be not very heinous, they be 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 83 
 
 neither locked in prison, nor fettered in 
 gyves,* but be united, and go at large, labour- 
 ing in the common works. They that refuse 
 labour, or go slowly or slack to their work, 
 be not only tied in chains, but also pricked 
 forward with stripes. But being diligent 
 about their work, they live without check or 
 rebuke. Every night they be called in by 
 name, and be locked in their chambers. Be- 
 side their daily labour, their life is nothing 
 hard or incommodious ; their fare is indif- 
 ferent good, borne at the charge of the weal- 
 public ; because they be common servants 
 to the common-wealth. But their charges 
 in all places in the land is not borne alike ; 
 for, in some parts, that which is bestowed 
 upon them is gathered of alms, and though 
 that way be uncertain, yet the people be so 
 full of mercy and pity, that none is found 
 more profitable or plentiful. In some places 
 certain lands be appointed hereunto, of 
 the revenues whereof they be maintained. 
 
 * Fetters for the legs — " The villains," says Falstaff of 
 his recruits, " march wide betwixt the tegs, as if they had 
 gyves on." 
 
84 Introductory Discourse to [book I. 
 
 And in some places every man giveth a 
 certain tribute for the same use and purpose. 
 Again, in some part of the land these 
 serving-men (for so be these damned *persons 
 called) do no common work ; but as every 
 private man needeth labours, so he cometh 
 into the market-place, and there hireth some 
 of them for meat and drink, and certain 
 limited wages by the day, somewhat cheaper 
 than he should hire a freeman. It is also 
 lawful for them to chastise the sloth of these 
 serving-men with stripes. By these means 
 they never lack work ; and besides the gain- 
 ing of their meat and drink, every one of 
 them bringeth daily something into the 
 common treasury. All and every one of 
 them be apparelled in one colour. Their 
 heads be not polled or shaven, but rounded 
 a little above the ears ; and the tip of one 
 ear is cut off. Every one of them may take 
 meat and drink of their friends, and also 
 a coat of their own colour ; but to receive 
 money is death, as well to the giver as to the 
 
 * i. e. condemned. The word " damnation" is yet used 
 in our Liturgy (Communion-service) for " condemnation." 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 85 
 
 receiver. And no less jeopardy it is for a 
 free-man to receive money of a serving-man 
 for any manner of cause ; and likewise for 
 serving-men to touch weapons. The serving- 
 men of every several shire be distinct and 
 known from other, by their several and dis- 
 tinct badges ; which, to cast away, is death: as 
 it is also to be seen out of the precinct of their 
 own shire ; or to talk with a serving-man of 
 another shire. And it is no less danger to 
 them, for to intend to run away, than to do 
 it in deed. Yea, and to conceal such an en- 
 terprise in a serving-man, it is death ; in 
 a free-man, servitude. Of the contrary part, 
 to him that openeth and uttereth such coun- 
 sels, be decreed large gifts : to a free-man, 
 a great sum of money ; to a serving-man, 
 freedom : and, to them both, forgiveness and 
 pardon of that they were of counsel in that 
 pretence. So that it can never be so good 
 for them to go forward in their evil purpose, 
 as by repentance to turn back. This is the 
 law and order in this behalf, as I have 
 shewed you : wherein what humanity is 
 used, how far it is from cruelty, and how 
 
86 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 commodious it is, you do plainly perceive. 
 For as much as the end of their wrath and 
 punishment intended) nothing else but the 
 destruction of vices and saving of men : 
 with so using and ordering them, that they 
 cannot choose but be good ; and what harm 
 soever they did before, in the residue of 
 their life, to make amends for the same. 
 
 Moreover, it is so little feared that they 
 should turn again to their vicious conditions, 
 that wayfaring men will for their safeguard 
 choose them to be their guides before any 
 other, in every shire changing and taking 
 new : for if they would commit robbery, 
 they have nothing about them meet for that 
 purpose. They may touch no weapons : 
 money found about them should betray the 
 robbery. They should be no sooner taken 
 with the manner, but forthwith they should 
 be punished. Neither can they have any 
 hope at all to escape away by flying : for 
 how should a man, that in no part of his ap- 
 parel is like other men, fly privily and un- 
 known, unless he would run away naked ? 
 Howbeit, so also flying, he should be des- 
 
book I.] the Description of Utopia. 87 
 
 cried by the rounding of his head, and his 
 ear-mark. But it is a thing to be doubted, 
 that they will lay their heads together, and 
 conspire against the weal-public. No, no, 
 I warrant you : for the serving-men of one 
 shire alone could never hope to bring to 
 pass such an enterprize, without soliciting, 
 enticing, and alluring the serving-men of 
 many other shires to take their parts. 
 Which thing is to them so impossible, that 
 they may not as much as speak or talk to- 
 gether, or salute one another. No, it is not 
 to be thought that they would make their 
 own countrymen and companions of their 
 counsel in such a matter, which they know 
 well should be jeopardy to the concealor 
 thereof, and great commodity and goodness 
 to the opener and detector of the same. 
 Whereas, on the other part, there is none of 
 them at all hopeless, or in despair to recover 
 again his former estate of freedom, by humble 
 obedience, by patient suffering, and by 
 giving good tokens and likelihood of him- 
 self, that he will ever after that, live like 
 a true and an honest man. For every year 
 
88 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 divers of them be restored to their freedom, 
 through the commendation of patience." 
 
 When I had thus spoken, saying more- 
 over, that I could see no cause why this 
 order might not he had in England, with 
 much more profit, than the justice which the 
 lawyer so highly praised. " Nay (quoth the 
 lawyer), this could never be so established 
 in England, hut that it must needs bring the 
 weal-public into great jeopardy and hazard." 
 And as he was thus saying, he shaked his 
 head, and made a wry mouth, and so he held 
 his peace. And all that were present with 
 one assent agreed to his saying. " Well 
 (quoth the Cardinal,) " yet it were hard to 
 judge without a proof, whether this order 
 would do well here or no. But when 
 the sentence of death is given, if then the 
 king should command execution to be 
 referred and spared, and would prove this 
 order and fashion, taking away the privilege 
 of sanctuaries : if then the proof should de- 
 clare the thing to be good and profitable, 
 then it were well done that it were establish- 
 ed : else, then condemned and reprieved 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 89 
 
 persons may as well be put to death after 
 this proof, as when they were first cast. 
 Neither any jeopardy can in the mean space 
 grow hereof. Yea, and me thinketh that 
 these vagabonds may very well be ordered 
 after the same fashion, against whom we 
 have hitherto made so many laws, and so 
 little prevailed." When the Cardinal had 
 thus said, then every man gave great praise 
 to my sayings which, a little before, they had 
 disallowed. But most of all was that es- 
 teemed which was spoken of vagabonds, 
 because it was the Cardinal's addition.* 
 
 I cannot tell whether it were best to re- 
 hearse the communication that followed ; 
 for it was very strange. But yet you shall 
 hear it, for there was no evil in it, and partly 
 
 * " It is impossible for a man to have lived much in the 
 world, and not to see the justness of this satire. It is as 
 old as the days of Solomon; and it is probable it will never 
 be extinguished, whilst mankind have the same passions of 
 avarice and ambition; and find that flattery and obse- 
 quiousness are the most likely means to procure their grati- 
 fication. — As to the observation itself, it is as true now as 
 it was then; that, notwithstanding all our laws, we have not 
 been able to attain our end against vagabonds ; and they 
 N 
 
90 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 it pertained to the matter before said. There 
 chanced to stand by a certain jesting para- 
 site or scoffer, which would seem to re- 
 semble and counterfeit the Fool* But he 
 
 still continue to be a grievous nuisance, as well in the 
 streets of London, as on the road. Warn eb. 
 
 Dr. Warner's remark still holds good, although it was 
 written fifty years ago. In spite of our Houses of Industry, 
 and Parish Schools, beggary, idleness, and profligacy are 
 yet very abundant — but let us " hope better things." 
 We are still in an improved condition compared with 
 Spain ; where the traveller is sure to find, at every resting- 
 place on the road, a swarm of mendicants who assail his 
 ears with piteous acclamations— themselves covered with 
 filth, and devoured by disease ! 
 
 * " The reader need noi be told, I suppose, that it was the 
 custom in England formerly for all men of fashion and for- 
 tune to keep a servant in their families, under the name 
 and appearance of a fool.f This fictitious conversation 
 between the friar and the A rchbishop's fool, in which the 
 ill behaviour and the great ignorance of the former is so 
 
 + More himself kept his fool. On the resignation of the 
 
 chancellorship, " his foole Patison he gaue to the Lo. 
 
 Mayor of London, upon this condition, that he should 
 
 everie yeare way te upon him, that should haue that office." 
 
 Great Grandson's Life of More, 4to. ed. 246. 
 
 Fools seem to have acted very important parts both in 
 private houses, and on the stage, during the sixteenth cen- 
 tury. I need not remind the reader what a prominent 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia, 91 
 
 did in such wise counterfeit, that he was 
 almost the very same indeed that he laboured 
 to present : he so studied with words and 
 
 much exposed, were in those times so indecent and offen- 
 sive, that in an edition of Sir Thomas More's works, pub- 
 lished at Louvain in 1566, this whole passage is left out. 
 It shews us however the contempt which the author had 
 for these people in that superstitious age ; and that he had 
 sagacity enough to discern, through all the prejudices of 
 education, that they were a public nuisance." Warner. 
 
 feature they make in the dramatic productions of our im- 
 mortal Shakspeare. " Shakspeare *s fools are cer- 
 tainly copied from life. The originals whom he copied 
 were no doubt men of quick parts ; lively and sarcastick. 
 Though they were licensed to say any thing, it was still 
 necessary, to prevent giving offence, that every thing they 
 said should have a playful air : we may suppose therefore 
 that they had a custom of taking off the edge of too sharp 
 a speech by covering it hastily with the end of an old song, 
 or any glib nonsense that came to the mind. I know no 
 other way of accounting for the incoherent words with 
 which Shakspeare often finishes his fools' speeches." Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds ; cited in the edit, of Shaksp. 1803. vol. 
 xvii.365. Consult the entire note, which is curious enough; 
 though a great deal more might have been said on the 
 " Origin, prevalence, and decline of fools" in the capa- 
 city above alluded to. 
 
 As an illustration of the person of the fool, in the reign of 
 Henry VIII. when More wrote his Utopia, the curious reader 
 should view an original picture of Henry and his family, 
 with a fool, and an ape on his back — hanging up in the 
 great room of the Society of Antiquaries, at Somerset 
 House, which was presented by his Majesty. 
 
92 Introductory Discourse to [book I. 
 
 sayings, brought forth so out of time and 
 place, to make sport and more laughter, that 
 he himself was oftener laughed at than his 
 jests were. Yet the foolish fellow brought 
 out now and then such indifferent and rea- 
 sonable stuff, that he made the proverb true, 
 which saith, " He that shooteth oft, at the 
 last shall hit the mark :*• so that when one 
 of the company said, that through my com- 
 munication, a good order was found for 
 thieves, and that the Cardinal also had well 
 provided for vagabonds — so that there only 
 remained some good provision to be made for 
 them that, through sickness and age, were 
 fallen into poverty, and were become so im- 
 potent and unwieldy, that they were not 
 able to work for their living — " Tush," 
 (quoth he), " let me alone with them : you 
 shall see me do well enough with them. 
 For I had rather than any good, that this 
 kind of people were driven somewhere out 
 of my sight; they have so sore troubled me 
 many times and oft, when they have with 
 their lamentable tears begged money of me : 
 and yet they could never to my mind so 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 93 
 
 tune their song, that thereby they ever got 
 of me one farthing. For evermore the one 
 of these chanced — either that I would not, 
 or else that I could not, because I had it 
 not. Therefore now they be waxed wise : 
 for when they see me go by, because they 
 will not lose their labour, they let me pass 
 and say not one word to me. So they look 
 for nothing of me ; no, in good sooth, no 
 more than if I were a priest or a monk ! 
 But I will make a law that all these beggars 
 shall be distributed and bestowed into houses 
 of religion. The men shall be made lay- 
 brethren, as they call them — and the women 
 nuns." Hereat the Cardinal smiled, and 
 allowed it in jest, yea, and all the residue in 
 good earnest. 
 
 But a certain friar, graduate in divinity, 
 took such pleasure and delight in these jests 
 of priests and monks, that he also (being else 
 a man of grisly and stern gravity) began 
 merrily and wantonly to jest and taunt. 
 " Nay," (quoth he), " you shall not be so 
 rid and dispatched of beggars, unless you 
 make some provision also for us friars." — 
 
94 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 " Why," (quoth the jester), " that is done 
 already, for my lord himself set a very good 
 order for you, when he decreed, that vaga- 
 bonds should be kept straight and set to 
 work : for you be the greatest and veriest 
 vagabonds that be."* This jest also, when 
 they saw the Cardinal not disprove it, 
 every man took it gladly, saving only the 
 friar : for he (and that no marvel) being 
 thus touched on the quick, and hit on the 
 gall, so fretted, so fumed, and chafed at it, 
 and was in such a rage, that he could not 
 refrain himself from chiding, scolding, rail- 
 ing, and reviling. He called the fellow 
 ribbald, villain, javel,+ backbiter, slanderer, 
 
 * If there is one part of the Utopia more than another, 
 which seems to satirise the Romish church, it is this — 
 where the priests are so severely handled by the jester, or 
 fool : but it appears strange, and rather inconsistent with 
 the usual delicacy and gratitude observed by More to- 
 wards his benefactors, that he should have this end in 
 view, when he introduces the discourse at the table of the 
 Cardinal, who was a Catholic, and his best friend ! It 
 must, however, here be noted, that the above passage occurs 
 in all the separate editions of the Utopia. 
 
 f A dirty fellow : a vagrant. 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 95 
 
 and the child of perdition, citing therewith 
 terrible threatenings out of Holy Scripture. 
 Then the jesting scoffer began to play the 
 scoffer indeed, and verily he was good at 
 that ; for he could play a part in that play, 
 no man better. *' Patient yourself, good 
 master friar (quoth he), and be not angry; 
 for Scripture saith : In your patience you 
 shall save your souls." Then the friar, (for 
 I will rehearse his own very words :) " No, 
 gallows wretch, I am not angry (quoth he), 
 or at the least wise I do not sin, for the 
 Psalmist saith, " Be you angry and sin 
 not." 
 
 Then the Cardinal spake gently to the 
 friar, and desired him to quiet himself. No 
 my Lord, (quoth he), I speak not but of 
 a good zeal, as I ought, for holy men had 
 a good zeal: wherefore it is said, lt The 
 zeal of thy house hath eaten me." And 
 it is sung in church, " The scorners of 
 Hilizeus* whiles he went up into the house 
 of God, felt the zeal of the bald, as perad- 
 venture, this scorning villain ribbald shall 
 * Elisha. 
 
96 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 feel." " You do it (quoth the Cardinal) , per- 
 chance of a good mind and affection : hut 
 me thinketh you should do, I cannot tell 
 whether more holily, certes more wisely, if 
 you would not set your wit to a fool's wit, 
 and with a fool take in hand a foolish con- 
 tention." " No, forsooth, my lord (quoth 
 he), I should not do more wisely ; for Solomon 
 the wise saith, " Answer a fool according to 
 his folly, like as I do now, and do shew him 
 the pit that he shall fall into, if he take not 
 heed : for if many scorners of Hdizeus % 
 which was but one bald man, felt the zeal 
 of the bald, how much more shall one 
 scorner of many friars feel, among whom 
 be many bald men ? And we have also the 
 Pope's bulls, whereby all that mock and 
 scorn us be excommunicated, suspended, 
 and accursed." * The Cardinal seeing no end 
 would be made, sent away the jester by a 
 
 * " Cardinalis, ubi vidit nullum fieri finera, nutu ablegato 
 parasito, ac aliam in rem commodum verso sermone, paulo 
 post surgit e mensa, atque audiendis clientum negotiisdedit 
 se, nosque dimisit." " When the Cardinal saw that there 
 was no end of this matter, he made a sign to the fool to 
 
book I.] the Description of Utopia. 97 
 
 privy beck, and turned the communication to 
 another matter. Shortly after, when he was 
 risen from the table, he went to hear his 
 suitors, and so dismissed us.* 
 
 withdraw, turned the discourse another way, and soon 
 after rose from the table, and dismissing us, went to hear 
 causes." So Burnet and Warner ; but inelegantly: ** turned 
 the discourse another way," is a vulgar anglicism. It 
 should have been, "gave a different turn (or direction) to 
 the discourse." u Le Cardinal, voiant que cela ne finiroit 
 point, fit signe a l'ecornifleur de se retirer. et changea 
 prudemment le sujet de la conversation. Peu de tems 
 apres, s'etant leve de table pour donner audience a ses 
 vassaux,il nous congedia"— French translation, 1730; 
 which is elegant, and sufficiently close. 
 
 * Here ends the conversation at the Cardinal's table: 
 the remainder of this first book is devoted to the observa- 
 tions of More and Hythloday upon it. 
 
 Burnet and Warner continue in the following manner : 
 " Thus, Mr. More, I have run out into a tedious story, 
 &c." which has rather a ludicrous air, " Master More'' 
 has something in it more respectable " " J'ai enfin acheve, 
 mon cher Morus, cette longue narration" — says the French 
 translation, which is polite enough. The original is brief 
 but expressive. — " En, mi More, quam longo te sermone 
 oneravi." ** Mr. More" sounds as bad as Mr. Shakspeare, 
 or Mr. Milton. 
 
98 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 Look, Master More, with how long and 
 tedious a tale I have kept you, which surely 
 I would have been ashamed to have done, but 
 that you so earnestly desired me, and did 
 after such a sort give ear unto it, as though 
 you would not that any parcel of that com- 
 munication should be left out. Which though 
 I have done somewhat briefly, yet could I 
 not choose but rehearse it, for the judgment 
 of them, who, when they had improved and 
 disallowed my sayings, yet incontinent hear- 
 ing the Cardinal allow them, did themselves 
 also approve the same: so impudently flat- 
 tering him, that they were nothing ashamed 
 to admit, yea, almost in good earnest, his 
 jester's foolish inventions ; because that he 
 himself, by smiling at them, did seem not 
 to disprove them ! So that hereby you may 
 right-well perceive how little the courtiers 
 would regard and esteem me and my sayings. 
 
 " I ensure you, Master Raphael (quoth I), 
 I took great delectation in hearing you : all 
 things that you said, were spoken so wittily 
 and so pleasantly. And methought me self 
 to be in the mean time, not only at home in 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 99 
 
 my country, but also, through the pleasant re- 
 membrance of the Cardinal, inwhose house I 
 wasbroughtup of a child, to wax a child again. 
 And, friend Raphael, though I did bear very 
 great love towards you before, yet seeing you 
 do so earnestly favour this man, you will not 
 believe how much my love towards you is 
 now increased. But yet, all this notwitstand- 
 ing, I can by no means change my mind, but 
 that I must needs believe, that you, if you be 
 disposed, and can find in your heart to 
 follow some prince's court,* shall with your 
 
 * " If you could overcome that aversion which you 
 have to the courts of princes," in Burnet and Warner. 
 
 It was very much the fashion in Mo re's time, but par- 
 ticularly towards the middle and conclusion of the six- 
 teenth century, to reprobate the extravagances of court, 
 and the vices of Courtiers. I have understood that among 
 the severest works which treat on this subject, (although 
 Roy's Satire upon Cardinal Wolsey has never perhaps 
 been exceeded in satirical severity,) there is a small book 
 written by one Peter Boiastuau, a Frenchman, called 
 " The Politike Gtasse," and printed about the year 1560. 
 This I have never seen ; but in another work, by the same 
 writer, the vices of courtiers are thus severely lashed. 
 " Many in the court, says he, pull off their caps to thee, 
 that would be glad to see thy head from thy shoulders ; 
 
100 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 good counsels greatly help and further the 
 common-wealth. Wherefore there is nothing 
 
 such bowe their knee to doe thee reverence, which woulde 
 that they had broken their leg to carry thee to thy grave. 
 There is always I know not what, nor I know not how, nor 
 I understand not who is the cause, that, incessantly one 
 complayneth, another murmureth, altereth, and some 
 despiseth. In the court, if thou wilt be an adulterer, thou 
 shalt find of thy accomplices ; if thou wilt quarrel, thou shalt 
 find with whom ; if thou wilt lye, thou shalt find those that 
 will approve thy lyes ; if thou wilt steale, thou shake finde 
 them that will shew thee a thousand wayes how ; if thou 
 wilt be a carder or dicer, thou shalt finde them that wilt 
 cog and playe with thee ; if thou wilt sweare and beare 
 false witnesse, thou shalt finde there thy like ; to be short, 
 if thou wilt give thyselfe to all kinds of wickednesse and 
 vices, thou shalt finde there the very example givers. Heere 
 may yousee the life of a great number of my masters, the 
 courtiers, which is no life but a lingering death. Here you 
 may see wherein their youth is employed, which is no youth, 
 but a transitory death. When that they come to age, 
 knowest thou what they bring from thence : their graye 
 heades, their feete full of goutes, their mouth toothlesse, 
 their backe full of paine, their hearts full of sorrowes and 
 thoughtes, and their soule filled with sin." We are then 
 referred by the authoi to the treatises of Guevara and 
 iEneas Silvius — " wherein (says he) they have painted 
 my masters, the courtiers, so in their colours, that they 
 have cut off the hope of adding, in those that will discover 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 101 
 
 more appertaining to your duty, that is to say 
 to the duty of a good man. For whereas your 
 Plato judgeth that weal-publics shall by 
 this means attain perfect felicity, either if 
 philosophers be kings, or else if kings give 
 themselves to the study of philosopy ; how 
 far, I pray you, shall common-wealths then 
 be from this felicity, if philosophers will 
 vouchsafe to instruct kings with their good 
 counsel ? " They be not so unkind (quoth 
 he), but they would gladly do it; yea, many 
 have done it already in books that they have 
 put forth, if kings and princes would be wil- 
 ling and ready to follow good counsel. 
 
 But Plato doubtless did well foresee, unless 
 kings themselves would apply their minds 
 to the study of philosophy, that else they 
 
 any thing after them." See a very curious and rare little 
 book, called, " The Theatre or Rule of the World, &c. trans- 
 lated by John Alday from the Latin and French original of 
 Boiastuau." Printed in black letter, by Thomas East 
 for John Wight, 1581. In the second book of the Utopia, 
 I shall have occasion to notice it more particularly. 
 
 An Englishman, who reads the foregoing account, must 
 congratulate his own country that the court of G eoro e III. 
 differs, in so many material points of description, from the 
 
102 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 would never thoroughly allow the counsel 
 of philosophers, being themselves before, 
 even from their tender age, infected, and 
 corrupt with perverse and evil opinions, 
 which thing Plato himself proved true in 
 King Dionysius. If I should propose to any 
 king wholesome decrees, doing my endeavour 
 to pluck out of his mind the pernicious ori- 
 ginal causes of vice and naughtiness, think 
 you not that 1 should forthwith either be dri- 
 ven away, or else made a laughing-stock? 
 Well, suppose I were with the French* king, 
 and there sitting in his council ; while in that 
 
 narrative of Boiastuau. So justly has More remarked (at 
 p. 41. ante), that " from the head, as from a perpetual 
 well-spring, cometh among the people the flood of all that 
 is good or evil." 
 
 * The immediately following passages have been con- 
 sidered as a representation of the sentiments of More on the 
 then state of European politics, or rather, as a sort of re- 
 presentation of facts. 
 
 The whole is very curious ; in the first place, it shews 
 at what period More was engaged in writing the Utopia ; 
 and next, how intimately he was acquainted with the views 
 of the French king, as well as of the other European 
 states : it is also curious from its similarity to the rela- 
 tion of the events here alluded to by a contemporary 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 103 
 
 most secret consultation, the king himself 
 there being present in his own person, they 
 beat their brains, and search the very bottoms 
 of their wits, to discuss by what craft and 
 means the king may still keep Milan* and 
 draw to him again fugitive Naples : and then 
 how to conquer the Venetians, and how to 
 bring under his jurisdiction all Italy ; then 
 how to win the dominion of Flanders Brabant 
 and all Burgundy; with divers other lands, 
 whose kingdoms he hath long ago in mind 
 and purpose invaded. Here, while one coun- 
 selled to conclude a league of peace with the 
 Venetians, so long to endure as shall be 
 thought meet and expedient for their pur- 
 pose, and to make them also of their council ; 
 yea and besides that, to give them part of the 
 prey, which afterward, when they have 
 
 writer, Guicciardini, in his " Storia d' Italia," lib. 12. 
 sub. an. 1513 ; where all the circumstances mentioned by 
 More are to be found, and, in one or two instances, in 
 nearly corresponding terms. 
 
 * The retention of Milan was a favourite political scheme, 
 or hobby-horse, with Francis I.: but at the battle of 
 Pavia he lost it, and every thing—" but his honour." 
 
104 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 brought their purpose about, after their own 
 minds, they may require and claim again— 
 another thinketh best to hire the Germans: 
 another would have the favour of the Switzers 
 won with money : another's advice is, to ap- 
 pease the puissant power of the Emperor's 
 majesty with gold, as with a most pleasant and 
 acceptable sacrifice: while another giveth 
 counsel to make peace with the king of Arra- 
 gon, and to restore unto him his own kingdom 
 of Navarre % as a full assurance of peace ; 
 another cometh in with his five eggs,* and 
 adviseth to hook in the king of Castile, with 
 some hope of affinity, or alliance ; and to 
 bring to their part certain peers of his court, 
 for great pensions. 
 
 While they all stay at the chiefest doubt 
 of all, what to do in the mean time with 
 England; and yet agree all in this, to make 
 with the Englishmen — and with most sure and 
 strong bonds to bind that weak and feeble 
 
 * So the first translation of Robinson has it ; but " com- 
 ing in with the five eggs" is gratuitous; no such expression 
 being in the original Latin, or in any modern translation. 
 The above has probably some allusion to a custom which then 
 prevailed, but which cannot now be ascertained, — whether, 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 105 
 
 friendship, so that they must be called friends, 
 and had in suspicion as enemies. And that 
 therefore the Scots must be had in readiness, 
 as it were in a standing, ready at all occasions 
 (in case the Englishmen should stir never so 
 little) incontinent to set upon them. And 
 moreover, privily and secretly (for openly it 
 may not be done, by the truce that is taken;} 
 privily therefore, I say, to make much of 
 some peer * of England, that is banished his 
 country, which must claim title to the 
 crown of the realm, and affirm himself 
 
 substituting " eggs" for " money" [See a curious note on 
 this subject in the edit, of Shakspear 1803. vol. be. 230. 
 Winter's Tale, actl, sc. 2.] it would infer the offering of 
 & paltry subsidy or bribe. 
 
 * There cannot be a doubt, I think, but that More here 
 alludes to Richard de la Pole, fifth son of John de la Pole 
 Duke of Suffolk, by Elizabeth, sister of Edward IV. 
 Among other reasons urged by Wolsey to induce Henry 
 to invade France, one was that Francis had broken 
 the treaty by favouring this nobleman, a ** fugitive and 
 a traitor." Guicciardini calls him Duke; his words 
 on this occasion are, — " Haveva il Re [di Francia], per 
 insospettire delle proprie cose il Re d' lnghilterra, chia- 
 mato in Francia il Duca di Suffolch, come competitore a 
 quel regno." (La Hist, d' Ital. cap. 12. fol. ed. 156l.) 
 
 P 
 
106 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 just inheritor thereof: that by this subtle 
 means they may hold to them the king, 
 in whom else they have but small trust 
 and affiance. 
 
 Here, I say, where so great and high mat- 
 ters be in consultation, where so many noble 
 and wise men counsel their king only to 
 war: here if I, silly man, should rise up, 
 and will them to turn over the leaf, and 
 learn a new lesson, saying, that my counsel 
 is not to meddle with Italy, but to tarry 
 still at home ; and that the kingdom of 
 France * alone is almost greater than that 
 it may well be governed of one man ; so 
 that the king should not need to study 
 how to get more: and then should propose 
 unto them the decrees of the people that be 
 called the Achoreins, which be situate over 
 against the island of Utopia, on the south-east 
 
 side- 
 
 [These Achoreins once made war, in their 
 king's quarrel, for to get him another king- 
 dom which he laid claim unto, and advanced 
 
 * What would have been More's sentiments of the ex- 
 tent and power of France as she now exists 
 
book i.] the Description oj Utopia. 107 
 
 himself right inheritor to the crown thereof, 
 by the title of an old alliance. At the last, 
 when they had gotten it, and saw that they 
 had even as much vexation and trouble in 
 keeping it, as they had in getting it ; and 
 that either their new conquered subjects by 
 sundry occasions were making daily insur- 
 rections to rebel against them, or else that 
 other countries were continually with divers 
 inroads and foragings invading them ; so 
 that they were ever fighting, either for them 
 or against them, and never could break 
 up their camps : seeing themselves in the 
 mean season pilfered and impoverished, their 
 money carried out of the realm, their own 
 men killed, to maintain the glory of another 
 nation: when they had no war, peace was no- 
 thing better than war, by reason that their 
 people in war had so inured themselves to 
 corrupt and wicked manners, that they had 
 taken a delight and pleasure in robbing and 
 stealing ; that through manslaughter, they 
 had gathered boldness to mischief ; that their 
 laws were had in contempt, and nothing set 
 by or regarded ; that their king being 
 
108 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 troubled with the charge and governance of 
 two kingdoms, could not, nor was not able 
 perfectly to discharge his office toward them 
 both : seeing again, that all these evils and 
 troubles were endless — at the last, they laid 
 their heads together, and like faithful and 
 loving subjects gave to their king free choice 
 and liberty to keep still the one of these two 
 kingdoms, whether he would ; alledging 
 that he was not able to keep both, and that 
 they were more than might well be governed 
 of half a king, for as much as no man would 
 be content to take him for his muleteer, that 
 keepeth another man's mules besides his. 
 So this good prince was constrained to be 
 content with his old kingdom, and to 
 give over the new to one of his friends, 
 who shortly after was violently driven 
 out.] 
 
 Furthermore, if I should declare unto 
 them, that all this busy preparance to war, 
 whereby so many nations for his sake should 
 be brought into a troublesome hurly-burly*, 
 
 * " Quibus tot nationes ejus causa turaultuarentur ;" 
 " troublesom hurley-burley," as Robinson's transla- 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 109 
 
 when all his coffers were emptied, his trea- 
 sures wasted, and his people destroyed — 
 should at the length, through some mischance, 
 be in vain, and to none effect ; and that there- 
 fore it were best for him to content himself 
 with his own kingdom of France, as his fore- 
 fathers and predecessors did before him ; to 
 make much of it, to enrich it, and to make it as 
 flourishing as he could; to endeavour himself 
 to love his subjects, and again to be beloved of 
 
 tion has it. The editor of the last edition of Shakspeare, 
 1803, vol. x. 13. quotes Henderson's extract from 
 Peacham's Garden of Eloquence, 1577 > in which this Eng- 
 lish expression is supposed to have first occurred : Mr. 
 Todd, in his edition of Spenser, vol. vi. 70. (note,) 
 seems to think (quere how correctly ?) the expression 
 may have been a Scotish one ; and he cites u Adagia 
 Scotica, or a collection of Scotch Proverbs, &c." Lond. 
 12mo. 1668; " a book," says he, " published indeed 
 long after Shakespeare's time, but containing probably many 
 old saws." It is not necessary to give Mr. Todd's extract, 
 which very satisfactorily explains this expression as used 
 by Shakspeare's Scotish hag in Macbeth — it may be only 
 worth while here to observe, that, Robinson's adoption of 
 the term has escaped our lexicographers and commenta- 
 tors, and that the word was published twenty-six years 
 before it appeared in Peacham. Dr Johnson refers only 
 to Shakspeare and Knolles. 
 
110 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 them ; willingly to live with them peaceably 
 to govern them, and with other kingdoms 
 not to meddle, seeing that which he hath 
 already is even enough for him, yea, and 
 more than he can well turn him to. 
 
 This mine advice, Master More, how 
 think you, would it not be hardly taken? 
 " So God help me, not very thankfully 
 (quoth I). " Well let us proceed then 
 (quoth he). Suppose that some king and his 
 counsel were together, whetting their wits,, 
 and devising what subtle craft they might 
 invent to enrich the king with great treasures 
 of money. 
 
 First, one counselleth to raise and enhance 
 the valuation of money, when the king must 
 pay any ;* and again to call down the value 
 
 * If the Utopia had ever been translated into Arabic 
 or Persian, one might have said that the late Tippoo 
 Sultan had profited by the first part of this advice : — It 
 was a common practice with him, when about to pay the 
 arrears of his troops, to raise the standard value of the 
 coin to a high rate, which continued about ten days — 
 during this time the soldiers had liberty to pay off their 
 debts, at the enhanced rate. See Dr. Buchanan's Journal 
 of a Journey from Madras, &c. vol. i. p. 129. 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. Ill 
 
 of coin to less than it is worth, when he 
 must receive or gather any : for thus, great 
 sums shall be paid with a little money ; 
 and where little is due, much shall be re- 
 ceived. 
 
 Another counselleth to fain war: that 
 when, under this colour and pretence, the 
 king hath gathered great abundance of money, 
 he may, when it shall please him, make peace 
 with great solemnity, and holy ceremonies, 
 to blind the eyes of the poor community ; as 
 taking pity and compassion, forsooth, upon 
 man's blood, like a loving and a merciful 
 prince ! 
 
 Another putteth the king in remembrance 
 of certain old and moth-eaten * laws, that of 
 long time have not been put in execution, 
 which, because no man can remember that 
 they were made, every man hath transgressed. 
 
 * " Antiquas quasdam et tineis adesas leges": " some old 
 musty laws, that have been antiquated by a long disuse." 
 So Burnet and Warner ; but more verbose and paraphras- 
 tic than the above. There is a fine allusion, in the reply 
 of Lord Strafford, to the folly and wickedness of enforcing 
 u old and moth-eaten laws:" that nobleman exclaimed, 
 
112 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 The fines of these laws he counselleth the 
 king to require ; for there is no way so pro- 
 fitable, nor more honourable, as that which 
 hath a shew and colour of justice. 
 
 Another adviseth him to forbid many 
 things under great penalties and fines, espe- 
 cially such things as is for the people's pro- 
 fit not to be used ; and afterward to dispense 
 for money with them which by this prohi- 
 bition sustain loss and damage ; for by this 
 means the favour of the people is won, and 
 profit riseth two ways : first, by taking for- 
 feits of them, whom covetousness of gains 
 hath brought in danger of this statute ; and 
 also by selling privileges and licenses, 
 which, the better that the prince is, forsooth, 
 the dearer he selleth them ; as one that is 
 loath to grant to any private person any 
 thing that is against the profit of his people; 
 
 when his prosecutors alleged against him certain evidence, 
 supported by ancient laws of which he was entirely igno- 
 rant — ** Let us. not, my Lords, awake those sleeping 
 lions, by rattling up a company of old records, which 
 have lain for so many ages by the wall, forgotten and 
 neglected !" — Hume's History of England. 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 113 
 
 and therefore may set none but at an ex- 
 ceeding dear price. 
 
 Another giveth the king counsel to en- 
 danger unto his grace the judges of the realm, 
 that he may ever have them on his side, and 
 that they may, in every matter, dispute and 
 reason for the king's right. Yea, and fur- 
 ther to call them into his palace, and to re- 
 quire them there to argue and discuss his 
 matters in his own presence : so there shall 
 be no matter of his so openly wrong and 
 unjust, wherein one or other of them — either 
 because he will have something to allege and 
 object, or that he is ashamed to say that 
 which is said already, or else to * pick a 
 thank with his prince — will not find some 
 
 * So the first English translation. *< Topicka thank,"is, 
 I suppose, the same kind of idiom as " to pick a quarrel"— 
 to choose, to select — to obtain one. Burnet translates it 
 " to make their court." In the original, it is " gratiam 
 ineant." 
 
 The meaning of the substantive " a pick-thank" is, an 
 officious person who endeavours to ingratiate himself with, 
 or obtain the notice of, any one, by the performance of 
 unasked favours or offices — in short, a busy-body. It is 
 yet in common use in some of the more northern counties. 
 
 0. 
 
114 Introductory Discourse to [book I. 
 
 hole open to set a snare in, wherewith to take 
 the contrary part in a trip. 
 
 Thus while the judges cannot agree 
 amongst themselves, reasoning and arguing 
 of that which is plain enough, and bringing 
 the manifest truth in doubt ; in the mean 
 season, the king may take a lit occasion to 
 understand the law as shall most make 
 for his advantage, whereunto all other, for 
 shame, or for fear, will agree. Then the 
 judges may be bold to pronounce on the 
 king's side : for he that giveth sentence for the 
 king, cannot be without a good excuse. For 
 it shall be sufficient for him to have equity 
 on his part, or the bare words of the law, or 
 awrithen* and wrested understanding of the 
 same (or else, which with good and just judges 
 is of greater force than all laws be) the king's 
 indisputable prerogative. To conclude, all 
 the counsellors agree and consent together 
 with the rich Crassus, that no abundance of 
 gold can be sufficient for a prince, which must 
 keep and maintain an army; furthermore that 
 
 * Distorted — twisted together : from the verb to writhe. 
 The above word is used by Chaucer in his " Flower and 
 Leaf," v. 57. 
 
book I.] the Description of Utopia. 115 
 
 a king, though he would, can do nothing un- 
 justly.* 
 
 For all that men have, yea, also the men 
 themselves, be all his. And that every man 
 hath so much of his own as the king's gen- 
 tleness hath not taken from him. And that 
 it shall be most for the king's advantage, that 
 his subjects have very little or nothing in 
 their possession,* as whose safeguard doth 
 
 * Every body knows it is a maxim in our law that * the 
 King can do no wrong." His Ministers only are supposed 
 to be culpable for the bad advice given to their monarch. 
 Old Plowden tells us that" the prerogative of the Crown 
 extends not to do any injury ; it is created for the benefit of 
 the people, and therefore cannot be exerted to their pre- 
 judice," p. 487, quoted by Blackstone, book 1. ch. 7. 
 
 + " It is impossible for any one to have read the history 
 of Henry VII. and not to see that this representation of the 
 advice of ministers, is levelled at the infamous measures of 
 getting money from the subject, which were pursued in that 
 reign. At the same time that the author shewed his ab- 
 horrence of those unjust and arbitrary impositions, he gave 
 an evident proof of his own capacity to assist in the cabinets 
 of princes, by the counsels which he proposes of another 
 sort immediately after. When the reader is told that Hen r y 
 left near two millions sterling in his vaults at Richmond when 
 he died, there will be no occasion to add the injustice he 
 did the nation, nor the miseries he brought upon them by 
 
116 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 herein consist, that his people do not wax 
 wanton and wealthy through riches and 
 liberty ; because where these things be, there, 
 men be not wont patiently to obey hard, un- 
 just, and unlawful commandments. Whereas, 
 on the other part, need and poverty doth 
 hold down and keep under stout * courages, 
 and maketh them patient perforce, taking 
 from them bold and rebelling stomachs. 
 Here again if I should rise up, and boldly 
 
 this injustice, in draining them of their wealth, and then 
 locking it up from circulating in commerce, in his own 
 coffers." Warner. 
 
 * This is the keenest part of More's satire against Henry 
 VII, whose avarice was as insatiable — as his means of gra- 
 tifying it were base and revengeful. Our author had not 
 forgotten the treatment which his father Sir John More 
 experienced. The story is thus related by Hoddesdon. "In 
 the latter end of king Henry VII. his reign a parliament was 
 called ; wherein Sir Thomas More, ere ever he had read in 
 court, was chosen burgess: there was then demanded by the 
 king, one subsidy and three fifteenths for the marriage of 
 his eldest daughter, the Lady Margaret, that then should 
 be (as indeed she was shortly after) the Queen of Scots; 
 when the consent of the lower house was demanded to these 
 impositions, most of the rest, either holding their peace, or 
 not daring to speak against them, (though very unwilling to 
 grant them,) Sir Thomas making a grave speech, argued 
 
book I .] the Description of Utopia. 117 
 
 affirm, that all these counsels be to the king 
 dishonour and reproach, whose honour and 
 safety is more and rather supported and up- 
 holden by the wealth and riches of his people, 
 than by his own treasures — and if I should 
 declare that the communalty chooseth their 
 king for their own sake, and not for his sake, 
 to the intent, that through his labour and 
 study they might all live wealthy, safe from 
 wrongs and injuries — and that therefore the 
 king ought to take more care for the wealth 
 of his people, than for his own wealth — even 
 as the office and duty of a shepherd is, in that 
 he is a shepherd, to feed his sheep rather than 
 himself?! Foras touching this, thatthey think 
 the defence and maintenance of peace to con- 
 sist in poverty of the people, the thing itself 
 
 so strongly why these exactions were not to be granted, 
 that thereby the king's demands were clean overthrown and 
 his request denied : so that one Mr. Tyler of the king's 
 privy chamber being present thereat, went immediately 
 from the house, and told his majesty that " a beardless boy 
 had frustrated all his expectations." 
 
 To be revenged upon More, " the king devised a causeless 
 quarrel against Sir John More, his father, keeping him in 
 the Tower until he had made him pay a hundred pounds 
 fine ! See J. H. Vita et Exitus Tho. More, p. 6. 7. 
 
118 Introductory Discourse to [book I. 
 
 sheweth that they be far out of the way — for 
 where shall a man find more wrangling, quar- 
 relling, brawling, and chiding, than among 
 beggars ? who be more desirous of new mu- 
 tations and alterations, than they that be not 
 content with the present state of their life? 
 Or finally, who be bolder stomached to bring 
 all in a hurly-burly* (thereby trusting to get 
 some wind-fall) than they that have now no- 
 thing to loose ? And if any king were so 
 smally regarded, and so lightly esteemed : 
 yea, so be-hated of his subjects, that other 
 ways he could not keep them in awe, but 
 only by open wrongs, by polling and shaving, 
 and by bringing them to beggary ; surely, it 
 were better for him to forsake his kingdom 
 than to hold it by that means ! whereby, 
 though the name of a king be kept, yet the 
 majesty is lost : for it is against the dignity 
 of a king to have rule over beggars, but 
 rather over rich and wealthy men. Of this 
 mind was the hardy and courageous Fabricius, 
 when he said ; that he had rather be a ruler of 
 rich mefi, than be rich himself. 
 
 * See p. 108, ante ; and note thereupon. 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 119 
 
 And verily, one man to live in pleasure and 
 wealth, while all other weep and smart for it, 
 that is the part, not of a king, but of a jailor. 
 To be short, as he is a foolish physician that 
 cannot cure his patient's disease, unless he cast 
 him in another sickness ; so he that cannot 
 amend the lives of his subjects, but by taking 
 from them the wealth and commodity of life, 
 he must needs grant, that he knoweth not the 
 feat how to govern men. But let him rather 
 amend his own life, renounce unhonest plea- 
 sures, and forsake pride: for these be the chief 
 vices that cause him to run in the contempt or 
 hatred of his people. Let him live of his own, 
 hurting no man: let him do cost not above 
 his power : let him restrain wickedness : let 
 him prevent vices, and take away the oc- 
 casions of offences by well ordering his sub- 
 jects, and not by suffering wickedness to en- 
 crease, afterward to be punished : let him 
 not be too hasty in calling again laws, which 
 a custom hath abrogated; especially such as 
 have been long forgotten, and never lacked 
 nor needed : and let him never, under the 
 cloak and pretence of transgression, take such 
 
120 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 fines * and forfeits, as no judge will suffer a 
 private person to take, as unjust and full of 
 guile. 
 
 Here if I should bring forth before them 
 the law of the Macariens^ which be not far 
 dislantfrom Utopia, whose king, the day of 
 his coronation, is bound by a solemn oath that 
 he shall never at any time have in his treasure 
 above a thousand pound of gold or silver. 
 They say, that a very good king, which took 
 far more care for the wealth and commodity 
 of his country, than for the enriching of him- 
 self, made this law to be a stop and bar to 
 kings from heaping and hoarding up so much 
 money as might impoverish their people : 
 for he foresaw that this sum of treasure 
 would suffice to support the king in battle 
 against his own people, if they should chance 
 to rebel : and also to maintain his wars 
 against the invasions of his foreign enemies. 
 Again, he perceived the same stock of money 
 to be too little and unsufficient to encourage 
 and enable him wrongfully to takeaway other 
 
 * More here alludes pointedly to the treatment of his 
 father by Henry VII. See p. 116-17) note. 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 121 
 
 men's goods: which was the chief cause why 
 the law was made. Another cause was this. 
 He thought that by this provision his people 
 should not lack money, wherewith to main- 
 tain their daily occupying and chaffer.* 
 
 And seeing the king could not choose 
 but lay out and bestow all that came in 
 above the prescript sum of his stock, he 
 thought he would seek no occasions to do 
 his subjects injury. Such a king shall be 
 feared of evil men, and loved of good men. 
 These, and such other informations, if I 
 
 * It has been before observed [p. 34.] that this word was 
 used for merchandize or ware by Chaucer and Spenser ; the 
 following are the examples : 
 
 Clothes of gold, and satins riche of hewe, 
 His chaffare was so thrifty and so newe. 
 
 Cant. Tales, v. 4555. Tyrw. edit 8vo. vol. i. 178. 
 My gold is youres, whan that it you leste 
 And not only my gold, but my chaffare. 
 
 Ibid. vol. i. 212, 13215. 
 Spenser uses it as a participle : 
 
 Where is thy fayre flocke thou was woont to lead ? 
 Or bene they chaffred, or at mischiefe dead ? 
 
 Shepherd's Calender, Sept. v. 10. 
 that is, given as ware in exchange. It is used in this sense 
 by the author of " Pierce Ploughman," passim. 
 R 
 
122 Introductory Discourse to [book I. 
 
 should use among men wholly inclined and 
 given to the contrary part, how deaf hearers 
 think you shall I have? Deaf hearers, doubt- 
 less (quoth I) : and in good faith no marvel. 
 And to be plain with you, truly I cannot 
 allow that such communication shall be used, 
 or such counsel given, as you be sure shall 
 never be regarded nor received : for how 
 can so strange information be profitable, or 
 how can they be beaten into their heads, 
 whose minds be already prevented with 
 clean contrary persuasions ? This school 
 philosophy is not unpleasant among friends 
 in familiar communication, but in the coun- 
 sels of kings, where great matters be debated 
 and reasoned with great authority, these 
 things have no place. 
 
 That is it which I meant (quoth he), when 
 I said philosophy had no place among kings. 
 Indeed (quoth I) this school philosophy 
 hath not: which thinketh all things meet 
 for every place. But there is another phi- 
 losophy more civil, which knoweth, as ye 
 would say, her own stage, and thereafter or- 
 dering and behaving herself in the play that 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 123 
 
 she hath in hand, playeth her part accordingly 
 with comeliness, uttering nothing out of due 
 order and fashion. And this is the philosophy 
 that you must use. Or else, whiles a comedy 
 of Plautus is playing, and the vile bond-men 
 scoffing and trifling among themselves, if you 
 should suddenly come upon the stage in a 
 philosopher's apparel, and rehearse out of 
 Octavia the place wherein Seneca disputeth 
 with JVero, had it not been better for you to 
 have played the dumb person, than by re- 
 hearsing that, which served neither for the 
 time nor place, to have made such a tragical 
 comedy or gallimalfry ?* for by bringing in 
 other stuff that nothing appertaineth to the 
 matter, you must needs mar and prevent the 
 play that is in hand, though the stuff that 
 you bring be much better. What part soever 
 
 * " Cockeram, in his Dictionarie of hard words, 12mo. 
 1622, &ays a gallimaufry is " a confused heap of things 
 together." Stevens's note on Shakspearo, ed. 1803, ix.360. 
 In Shakspeare the word is thus used, " and they have a 
 dance which the wenches say is a gallimaufry of gambols." 
 &c. Winter's Tale. Grose, in his Dictionary of the vulgar 
 tongue, calls it " a hodge-podge made up of the remnants 
 and scraps of the larder." ed. 1785. 
 
124 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 you have taken upon you, play that as well 
 
 as you can, and make the best of it ; and do 
 
 not therefore disturb and brino- out of order 
 
 o 
 
 the whole matter, because that another, which 
 is merrier and better, cometh to your remem- 
 brance. 
 
 So the case standeth in a common.wealth : 
 
 and so it is in the consultations of kings 
 and princes. If evil opinions and naughty 
 persuasions cannot be utterly and quite 
 plucked out of their hearts, if you cannot 
 even as you would, remedy vices which use 
 and custom have confirmed ; yet for this 
 cause you must not leave and forsake the 
 common- wealth : you must not forsake the 
 ship in a tempest, because you cannot rule 
 and keep down the winds. No, nor you must 
 not labour to drive into their heads new and 
 strange informations, which you know well 
 shall be nothing regarded with them that be 
 of clean contrary minds. But you must with 
 acrafty wile and subtile train study and endea- 
 vour yourself, as much as in you lieth, to 
 handle the matter wittily and handsomely 
 for the purpose, and that which you can- 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 125 
 
 not turn to good, so to order it that it be 
 not very bad : for it is not possible for all 
 things to be well, unless all men were good; 
 which I think will not be yet these good 
 many years. By this means (quoth he) no- 
 thing else will be brought to pass ; but while 
 I go about to remedy the madness of others, I 
 should be even as mad as they ; for if I should 
 speak things that be true, I must needs speak 
 such things: but as for to speak false things, 
 whether that be a philosopher's part or no, I 
 cannot tell ; truly it is not my part. Howbeit 
 this communication of mine, though perad- 
 venture it may seem unpleasant to them, yet 
 cannot I see why it should seem strange, or 
 foolishly newfangled. If so be that I should 
 speak those things that Plato faineth in his 
 weal-public, or that the Utopians do in theirs, 
 these things though they were (as they be 
 indeed) better, yet they might seem spoken 
 out of place. For as much as here amongst 
 us, every man hath his possessions several to 
 himself, and there all things be in common. 
 But what was in my communication con- 
 tained, that might not, and ought not in any 
 
126 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 place to be spoken. Saving that to them 
 which have thoroughly decreed and deter- 
 mined with themselves to run headlong on 
 the contrary way, it cannot be acceptable and 
 pleasant, because it calleth them back, and 
 sheweth them the jeopardies. Verily if all 
 things that evil and vicious manners have 
 caused to seem unconvenient and naught, 
 should be refused as things unmeet and re- 
 proachful, then we must among Christian 
 people wink at the most part of all those 
 things which Christ taught us, and so 
 straightly forbad them to be winked at, 
 that those things also which he whispered in 
 the ears of his disciples, he commanded to be 
 proclaimed in open houses. And yet the 
 most part of them is more dissident from the 
 manners of the world now a days, than my 
 communication was. But preachers, sly and 
 wily men, following your counsel (as I sup- 
 pose) because they saw men evil-willing to 
 frame their manners to Christ's* rule, they 
 
 * Mr. Knight, in his life of Dean Colet, [p. 163. note m.] 
 tells us that thejirst edition of the Utopia gave such a ridi- 
 culous view of the several orders of the church of Rome, 
 
book I.] the Description oj Utopia. 127 
 
 have wrested and wryed his doctrine ; and 
 like a rule of lead have applied it to men's 
 manners : that by some means, at the least 
 way, they might agree together. Whereby 
 I cannot see what good they have done, but 
 that men may more sickerly* be evil. And 
 I truly should prevail even as little in kings 
 
 that care was taken to expunge several passages relating 
 thereunto. " Thus," says he, «' in page 56 he taxes the 
 preachers of that age for corrupting the Christian doctrine 
 and practising upon it; for they, observing that the world 
 did not suit their lives to the rules of Christ, have fitted his 
 doctrine as if it had been a leaden rule to their lives, that 
 some way or other, they might agree with one another." 
 The part which Mr. Knight here alludes to, happens 
 not to be at p. 56, but at p. 63, of the Jirst edition ; 
 and the above passage, which he supposes to have been 
 softened or altered in subsequent editions, also happens to 
 remain in its original state in every subsequent one. This 
 shews the necessity of examination before decision, or 
 before we take upon us to repeat the observations of others. 
 It is clear that in this instance Mr. Knight never examined 
 the editio princeps of Utopia. 
 
 As to the above passage giving " a ridiculous view of the 
 several orders in the church of Rome" in particular, the 
 reader will probably agree with me that it is equally ap- 
 plicable to the church of Petersburg ! 
 
 * Surely. 
 
128 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 councils ; for either I must say otherway^ 
 than they say, and then I were as good to 
 say nothing — or else I must say the same that 
 they say, and (as Mitio saith in Terence) help 
 to further their madness. For that crafty will 
 and subtile train of yours, I cannot perceive 
 to what purpose it serveth, wherewith you 
 would have me to study and endeavour my- 
 self, if all things cannot be made good, yet 
 to handle them wittily and handsomely for 
 the purpose that, as far forth as is possible, 
 they may not be very evil : for there is no 
 place to dissemble in, nor to work in. 
 Naughty counsels must be openly allowed, 
 and very pestilent decrees must be approved. 
 He shall be counted worse than a spy, 
 yea, almost as evil as a traitor, that with a 
 faint heart doth praise evil and noisome de- 
 crees. Moreover, a man can have no occa- 
 sion to do good, chancing into the com- 
 pany of them whicli will sooner pervert 
 a good man,* than be made good themselves : 
 
 * " If this is not sufficient to deter a good man from 
 mixing much with the courts of princes, we may add the 
 testimony of the late lord Stanhope — a minister of more 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 129 
 
 through whose evil company he shall be 
 marred, or else it he remained good and in- 
 nocent, yet the wickedness and folly of 
 others shall be imputed to him, and laid in 
 his neck. So that it is impossible with that 
 crafty wile, and subtle train, to turn any 
 thing to better. Wherefore Plato, by a 
 goodly similitude, declareth why wise men 
 refrain to meddle in the commonwealth : 
 for when they see the people swarm into the 
 streets, and daily wet to the skin with rain, 
 and yet cannot persuade them to go out of 
 the rain, and to take their house, knowing 
 well that if they should go out to them, 
 they should nothing prevail, nor win aught 
 by it, but with them be wet also in the rain — 
 they do keep themselves within their houses, 
 being content that they be safe themselves, 
 seeing they cannot remedy the folly of the 
 
 probity than this nation has ever seen, perhaps, or ever will 
 see — who, after musing some time in company, started up, 
 and said, as to himself, — " It is impossible !" — and being 
 asked, what it was that was impossible, he replied, " It 
 is impossible for a minister to be an honest man !" 
 
 Warner. 
 s 
 
130 Introductory Discourse to [book I. 
 
 people. Howbeit, doubtless, Master More 
 (to speak truly as my mind giveth me), 
 where possessions be private, where money 
 beareth all the stroke,* it is hard and almost 
 impossible that there the weal-public may 
 justly be governed, and prosperously flou- 
 rish ; unless you think thus ; that justice 
 is there executed, where all things come 
 into the hands of evil men : or that pros- 
 perity there flourisheth, where all is divided 
 among a few: which few nevertheless do 
 not lead their lives very wealthily, and the 
 residue live miserably, wretchedly, and 
 beggarly. 
 
 Wherefore, when I consider with myself, 
 and weigh in my mind the wise and godly 
 ordinances of the Utopians ; among whom, 
 with very few laws all things be so well 
 
 * ** Ubi omnes omnia pecuniis metiuntur." — " While 
 money is the standard of all other things" say Burnet and 
 Warner. I have consulted the glossaries of our best ety- 
 mologists, including those of Ritsonand Mr. G. Chalmers, 
 but cannot discover any passage in which the word 
 " stroke" is used as above. I suppose it to be analogous 
 to — such a thing, or such an one, bearing the bell ; having 
 the chief power, or pre-eminence. 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 13 1 
 
 and wealthily ordered, that virtue is had in 
 price and estimation, and yet all things 
 being there common, every man hath abun- 
 dance of every thing. Again, on the other 
 part, when I compare with them so many 
 nations ever making new laws, yet none of 
 them all well and sufficiently furnished with 
 laws : where every man calleth that he hath 
 gotten his own proper and private goods ; 
 where so many new laws daily made, be not 
 sufficient for every man to enjoy, defend, 
 and know from another man's that which he 
 calleth his own : which thing, the infinite 
 controversies in the law that daily rise never 
 to be ended, plainly declare to be true — 
 these things (I say) when I consider with 
 myself, I hold well with Plato, and do no- 
 thing marvel that he would make no laws 
 for them that refused those laws, whereby 
 all men should have and enjoy equal por- 
 tions of wealth and commodities. 
 
 For the wise man did easily foresee this to 
 be the one and only way to the wealth of a 
 commonalty, if equality of all things should 
 be brought in and established ; which I think 
 
132 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 is not possible to be observed,* where every 
 man's goods be proper and peculiar to him- 
 self: for where every man under certain 
 titles and pretences draweth and plucketh to 
 himself as much as he can ; so that a few 
 divide among themselves all the whole 
 riches, be there never so much abundance 
 and store — there, to the residue is left 
 lack and poverty. 
 
 And for the most part it chanceth, that 
 this latter sort is more worthy to enjoy that 
 state of wealth than the other be : because 
 the rich men be covetous, crafty, and unpro- 
 fitable ; on the other part, the poor be lowly, 
 simple, and by their daily labour, more pro- 
 fitable to the commonwealth than to them- 
 selves. Thus, I do fully persuade myself, 
 
 * We all, I believe, think so now ; though there was a 
 period, and that not a far distant one, when Englishmen as 
 well as Frenchmen shouted for " liberty and equality." — 
 It has so happened that the former retain that liberty which 
 once they wished to have parted with, and that the latter, 
 instead of equality, are now submissive beneath the sway of 
 absolute monarchy. Such is the strange and melancholy 
 fickleness of human nature ! 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 133 
 
 that no equal and just distribution of things 
 can be made, nor that perfect wealth shall 
 ever be among men, unless this propriety be 
 exiled and banished. But so long as it shall 
 continue, so long shall remain among the 
 most and best part of men, the heavy and 
 inevitable burthen of poverty and wretched- 
 ness. Which, as 1 grant that it may be 
 somewhat eased, so I utterly deny that it can 
 wholly be taken away : for if there were a 
 statute made, that no man should have in his 
 stock above a prescript and appointed sum of 
 money: if it were by certain laws decreed, 
 that neither the king should be of too great 
 power, neither the people too haughty and 
 wealthy ; and that offices should notbe obtain- 
 ed by inordinate suit, or by bribes and gifts : 
 that they should neither be bought nor sold, 
 nor that it should be needful for the officers 
 to be at any cost or charge in their offices : 
 [for so occasion is given to them, by fraud and 
 ravin, to gather up their money again ; and 
 by reason of gifts and bribes, the offices be 
 given to rich men, which should rather have 
 been executed of wise men :] by such laws 
 
134 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 I say, like as sick bodies that be desperate 
 and past cure, be wont with continual good 
 cherishing to be kept and botched up for 
 a time — so these evils also may be lightened 
 and mitigated- But that they may be per- 
 fectly cured, brought to a good and upright 
 state, it is not to be hoped for whilst every 
 man is master of his own to himself. Yea, 
 and whilst you go about to do your cure of 
 one part, you shall make bigger the sore of 
 another part; so the help of one causeth 
 another's harm: forasmuch, as nothing can 
 be given to any one unless it be taken from 
 another. 
 
 " But I am of acontrary opinion (quoth I*) ; 
 for me thinketh that men shall never there 
 live wealthily, where all things be common : 
 for how can there be abundance of goods, or 
 of any thing, where every man withdraweth 
 his hand from labour ? Whom the regard 
 of his own gains driveth not to work, but 
 the hope that he hath in other men's travails 
 makes him slothful. 
 
 * That is, More — who is now speaking in reply to 
 Hytholodaeus. 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 135 
 
 Then when they be pricked with poverty, 
 and yet no man can by any law or right de- 
 fend that lor his own, which he hath gotten 
 with the labour of his own hands, shall not 
 there of necessity be continual sedition and 
 bloodshed ? Specially the authority and 
 reverence of magistrates being taken away — 
 which, what place it may have with such men 
 among whom is no difference, I cannot de- 
 vise." " I marvel not (quoth he) that you be 
 of this opinion : for you conceive in your 
 mind, either none at all, or else a very false 
 image and similitude of this thing. But if 
 you had been with me in Utopia,* and had 
 presently seen their fashions and laws, as 
 I did — which lived there five years and more, 
 and would never have come thence, but only 
 
 * There is something very skilful in the frequent intro- 
 duction of this word, before the commencement of the 
 second book, which is a regular history of the laws and 
 customs of the Utopians. By an apparently artless manner 
 of referring to the Utopian laws, Hythlodaeus excites the 
 curiosity, and sharpens the appetite, of his hearers to be- 
 come acquainted with them. At length, having wrought 
 this curiosity to the highest pitch, he satisfies it by the 
 recital which occupies the entire second book. 
 
136 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 to make that new land known here — then, 
 doubtless, you would grant that you never 
 saw people well ordered, but only there. 
 " Surely (quoth Master Peter) it shall be 
 hard for you to make me believe that there 
 is better order in that new land, than is here 
 in the countries that we know. For good 
 wits be as well here as there : and I think our 
 common-wealths be ancienter than theirs ; 
 wherein long use and experience hath found 
 out many things commodious for man's life ; 
 besides, that, many things here among us 
 have been found by chance, which no wit 
 could ever have devised." " As touching the 
 ancientness (quoth he) of common-wealths, 
 then you might better judge if you had read 
 the histories and chronicles of that land, 
 which, if we may believe, cities were there 
 before men were here ! 
 
 Now what thing soever hitherto by wit 
 hath been devised, or found by chance, that 
 might be as well there as here. But I think 
 verily, though it were so that we did pass 
 them in wit, yet in study, in travel, and in 
 laboursome endeavour, they far pass us : 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 137 
 
 for (as their chronicles testify) before our 
 arrival there, they never heard any thing of 
 us, whom they call the Ultra-equinoctials : 
 saying that once, about twelve hundred years 
 ago, a certain ship was lost by the isle of 
 Utop i a, which was driven thither by tempest. 
 Certain Romans and Egyptians were cast on 
 land, which after that never went thence. 
 
 Mark now what profit they took of this 
 one occasion, through diligence and earnest 
 travail ! There was no craft nor science 
 within the empire of Rome whereof any 
 profit could rise, but they either learned 
 it of those strangers, or else of them, taking 
 occasion to search for it, found it out. So 
 great profit was it to them that ever any 
 went thither from hence. But if any like 
 chance before this hath brought any man 
 from thence hither, that is as quite out of re- 
 membrance, as this also perchance, in time 
 to come, shall be forgotten that ever I was 
 there. And like as they quickly, almost at 
 the first meeting, made their own, whatso- 
 ever is among us wealthily devised: so 
 I suppose it would be long before we should 
 T 
 
138 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 receive any thing, that among them is better 
 instituted than among us. 
 
 And this I suppose is the chief cause why 
 their common-wealths be wiselier governed, 
 and do flourish in more wealth than ours, 
 though we neither in wit nor riches be their 
 inferiors. * Therefore, gentle Master Ra- 
 phael, (quoth I), I pray you and beseech 
 
 *" Ergo, mi Raphael, inquarn, quaeso te atque obsecro, 
 describe nobis insulam : nee velis esse brevis, sed explices 
 ordine agros, fluvois, urbes, homines, mores, instituta, 
 leges, ac denique omnia, quae nos putes velle cognoscere : 
 putabis autem velle quicquid adhuc nescimus. Nihil, inquit, 
 faciam libentius : nam haec in promptu habeo, sed res 
 otium poscit. Eamus ergo, inquam, intro pransum ; mox 
 tempus nostro arbitratu sumemus. Fiat, inquit. Ita 
 ingressi,. prandemus : pransi, in eundem reversi locum, 
 in eodem sedili consedimus : ac jussis ministris, ne quis 
 interpellaret, ego, ac Petrus iEgidius hortamur Raphae- 
 LEM,utpro3Stet quod erat pollicitus. Is ergo ubi nosvidit 
 intentos atque avidos audiendi, quum paulisper tacitus 
 et cogitabundus assedisset, hunc in modum exorsus est." 
 
 The following is the French translation, which is elegant 
 aud animated. 
 
 " Cela etant, ra'ecriai-je, je vous prie, mon cher 
 Raphael, je vous conjure, faites-nous la description de 
 cette He incomparable. Ne cherchez point a abreger 
 v6tre matiere. Dites-nous par ordre et dans un detail 
 exact, les campagnes, les fleuves, les villes, les habitans, 
 
book i.] the Description oj Utopia. 139 
 
 you describe unto us the island. And 
 study not to be short : but declare largely 
 in order, the grounds, the rivers, the cities, 
 the people, the manners, the ordinances, 
 the laws ; and to be short, all things that 
 you shall think us desirous to know. And 
 you shall think us desirous to know what- 
 soever we know not yet. 
 
 " There is nothing (quoth he) that I will 
 do gladlier. For all these things I have 
 
 les moeurs, les coutumes, les loix ; enfin, tout ce que vous 
 croirez que nous serons bien aises d'apprendre. Or vous 
 jugez bien que n6tre curiosite est affamee de tout ce que 
 nous ignorons." 
 
 " II n'est rien, repartit n6tre Philosophe, que je fasse 
 plus volontiers : je possede assez le sujet : mais la chose de- 
 mande un peu de relache ; laissez moi, s'il vous plait, 
 respirer. Cela est trop juste, repondis-je : allons done 
 trouver le dine qui nous attend : nous prendrons ensuite 
 le terns qui nous sera le plus commode. J'y consens, dit 
 Raphael. Nous entrons ; nous dinons ; puis etant re- 
 tournez au jardin, nous reprimes nos places sur legason — 
 les domestiques ai'ant ordre de ne laisser entre aucun 
 facheux. Alors mon ami et moi prions Raphael de tenir 
 parole. Lui, nous voiant des gens qui preparoient toute 
 leur attention, et qui avoient grande envie d'ecouter, 
 apres un peu de silence et de meditation, il debuta de 
 cette maniere-ci." 
 
140 Introductory Discourse to [book i. 
 
 fresh in mind : but the matter requireth 
 leisure." " Let us go in therefore (quoth I) 
 to dinner, and afterward we will bestow the 
 time at our pleasure." " Content (quoth he) 
 be it." So we went in and dined. 
 
 When dinner was done, we came into the 
 same place again, and sat us down upon the 
 same bench, commanding our servants that 
 no man should trouble us. Then I and 
 Master Peter Giles, desired Master Raphael 
 to perform his promise. 
 
 He, therefore, seeing us desirous and wil- 
 ling to hearken to him — when he had sat still 
 and paused a little while, musing and be- 
 thinking himself, thus he began to speak. 
 
 ffinto of tf>e jftret ^oo&»* 
 
 *" The pleasing manner in which th\s Jirst book, or part 
 of the work is written, the felicity of the style, the elegance 
 of the satire, the acuteness of the remarks on men and 
 manners, the freedom and manliness of the opinions, 
 would have raised it to distinction in any age; but in the 
 rude and ignorant period when it appeared, justly entitled 
 it to general admiration. 
 
 " With so much skill and apparent simplicity are the 
 dialogues and the narrative conducted, that several persons 
 did not suspect that More had imposed upon them a work 
 
book i.] the Description of Utopia. 141 
 
 of his own fancy : some envious critics even went so far as 
 to affirm, that, to their certain knowledge, Hy thlodaeus had 
 not only furnished the materials of the narrative, but had 
 actually dictated the whole from the beginning to end ; 
 while the scribbler, who now enjoyed all the reputation, had 
 acted as a mere amanuensis. Some grave and zealous 
 divines, on the other hand, strongly moved by the virtues of 
 the Utopians, had actually determined to embark in an 
 attempt to achieve the good work of their conversion to 
 Christianity." 
 
 Macdiarmid's Lives of British Statesmen, 19, 21. 
 
THE 
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF UTOPIA.* 
 25oofc tfie <&econ&. 
 
" Mori nomen in Utopia perenni constantia? laude 
 fruitur. In ea enim bealae gcntis regione optimis instituta 
 legibus, ac opulenta pace florentem rempublicara elegan- 
 tissime descripsit, quum damnatos corrupti seculi mores 
 fastidiret, ut ad bene beateque vivendum coramento per- 
 jucundo, rectissima via monstraretur." — Paulus Jovius 
 in Elog. doct. Viror. tit. 89. 
 
 '* Nihil in eo opere, vel circa inventionem jucundius, 
 acutius,et artiliciosius ; vel circa orationisgenus,clegantius, 
 uberius, ornatius ; vel circa precepta vitoe ac morum, 
 gravius, solidius, prudentius. Ejus lectio nee lectorem 
 unquam fastidire, nee absque singulari aliquo fructu dimit- 
 tere potest, si attentus et proficiendo studio legat." 
 
 Stapleton, Vit. Mori, p. 46. 
 " La Propriete, l'Avarice, l'Ambition, ces trois pestes de 
 la Societe civile, ces trois Monstres qui ravagent le genre 
 huraain, ne se trouvent point en Utopie. Cette republique 
 est d'une constitution singuliere. On y voit la superiorite 
 avec l'egalite ; la pauvrete avec les richesses ; le commande- 
 raent avec l'obeissance ; enfin, tout ce qu'il y a de different, 
 de separe, dans les autres etats, est reiini, ou pour mieux 
 dire, n'est que la meme chose dans celui-ci.'' 
 
 Gueudeville, Traduct. Franc. Pre/. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 Of the Island and Inhabitants of Utopia. 
 
 X h e island of Utopia* containeth in 
 breadth in the middle part of it (for there 
 
 * The reader need hardly be informed that this is a Greek 
 word, compounded ofEi< and twos— signifying, a happy place 
 —a land of perfection.— Some have whimsically imagined 
 
148 Description of the Island [b. ii. 
 
 it is broadest) two hundred miles ; which 
 breadth continueth through the most part 
 of the land, saving that by little it cometh 
 in, and waxeth narrower towards bo^h the 
 ends : which fetching about a circuit or 
 compass of five hundred miles, do fashion 
 the whole island like to the new moon:* 
 between these two corners the sea runneth 
 in, dividing them asunder by the distance 
 of eleven miles or thereabouts, and there 
 surmounteth into a large sea, which by 
 reason that the land on every side com- 
 passeth it about, and sheltereth it from the 
 winds, is not rough, nor mounteth not with 
 great waves, but almost floweth quietly, not 
 much unlike a great standing pool ; and 
 
 it to be compounded of a-iwoj — no such, or not a place — 
 meaning that it is purely fictitious. More has endeavour- 
 ed to conceal the fiction by making the island named after 
 king Utopus. See page 6, post. 
 
 In the editio princeps of the Utopia, there is a wood cut 
 of a bird's-eye view of the island, with its cities, &c. 
 which is sufficiently rude : this is copied, on a reduced 
 scale, in the Basil edition of 1563. 
 
 * " Not unlike a crescent," say the modern translators — 
 <l in lunas speciem — cujus cornua," &c. in the original. 
 
chap, i . ] and Inhabitants of Utopia . 1 4 9 
 
 maketh well nigh all the space within the 
 beliy of the land in manner of a haven : and 
 to the great commodity of the inhabitants, 
 receiveth in ships towards every part of 
 the land. The fore-fronts or frontiers of 
 the two corners, what with boards and 
 shelves, and what with rocks, be jeopardous* 
 and dangerous. In the middle distance be- 
 tween them both, standeth up above the 
 water a great rock, which therefore it is 
 nothing perilous, because it is in sight Upon 
 the top of this rock is a fair and strong 
 tower builded, which they hold with a gar- 
 rison of men. Other rocks there be lying 
 hid under the water, which therefore be 
 dangerous. The channels be known only 
 to themselves. And therefore it seldom 
 chanceth that any stranger, unless he be 
 guided by an Utopian, can come into this 
 
 * " Fauces hinc vadis, inde saxis formidolosae"— in the 
 original, which is concise and strong. " Jeopardous," used 
 in the above translation as an adjective, is of rather rare 
 occurrence among our old authors. Johnson has con- 
 fined his illustrations only to the substantive " jeopardy," 
 and in these he cites no authority earlier than Bacon. 
 
150 Description of the Island [b. n. 
 
 haven. Insomuch that they themselves could 
 scarcely enter without jeopardy, but that 
 their way is directed and ruled by certain 
 land marks standing on the shore. By 
 turning, translating,* and removing the 
 marks into other places, they may destroy 
 their enemies navies, be they never so 
 many. 
 
 The outside or outer circuit of the land is 
 also full of havens, but the landing is so 
 surely fenced, what by nature and what by 
 workmanship of men's hands, that a few 
 defenders may drive back many armies. 
 Howbeit, as they say, and as the fashion of 
 the place itself doth partly shew, it was not 
 ever compassed about with the sea. But 
 king Utopus, whose name, as conqueror, the 
 island beareth (for before this time it was 
 called Abraxa — which also brought the rude 
 and wild people to that excellent perfection 
 in all good fashions, humanity, and civil 
 gentleness, wherein they now go beyond all 
 
 * This word is rarely used in the above sense ; there is 
 not, I believe, any example of it in Spenser or Shakspeare. 
 
chap, i.] and Inhabitants of Utopia. 15 1 
 
 the people in the world) — even at his arriv- 
 ing and entering upon the land, forthwith 
 obtaining the victory, caused fifteen miles 
 space of uplandish ground, where the sea 
 had no passage, to be cut and digged up ; 
 and so wrought the sea round about the 
 land. He set to this work, not only the in- 
 habitants of this island, (because they should 
 not think it done in contumely and despite), 
 but also all his own soldiers. Thus the 
 work being divided into so great a number 
 of workmen, was with exceeding marvellous 
 speed dispatched. Insomuch, that the bor- 
 derers, which at the first began to mock, and 
 to jest at the vain enterprise, then turned 
 their derision to marvel at the success, and 
 to fear. 
 
 There be in the island fifty-four large and 
 fair cities, or shire towns* agreeing alto- 
 gether in one tongue, in like manners, insti- 
 
 * The expression " shire towns" is gratuitous in the 
 translation. — More says only, " civitates, &c. spaciosas 
 omnes ac magnificas." " The word shire," says Ley, *' is 
 an ancient Saxon word, meaning to cut, sheer, or to di- 
 vide; and the aspiration sh hath been brought in by the 
 
152 Description of the Island [b. n. 
 
 tutions, and laws : they be all set and situate 
 alike, and in all points fashioned alike, as far 
 forth as the place or plot suffereth. Of 
 these cities, they that be nighest together be 
 twenty-four miles asunder. Again, there is 
 none of them distant from the next, above one 
 days journey a-foot. There come yearly to 
 Amaurote, out of every city, three old men 
 wise and well experienced, there to entreat 
 and debate of the common matters of the 
 land. For this city (because it standeth 
 just in the midst of the island, and is there- 
 fore most meet for the ambassadors of all 
 parts of the realm) is taken for the chief and 
 head city. The precincts and bounds of the 
 shires be so commodiously pointed out, and 
 set forth for the cities, that none of them all 
 hath of any side less than twenty miles of 
 ground, and of some side also much more, 
 
 Normans, as in divers other the like words may be exem- 
 plified." From the same authority we are told that the 
 first division of this land into shires took place before or 
 d uring the reign of Alfred. See Hearne's Antiquarian Dis- 
 courses, vol. i. 29, 30. edit. 1775, and consult Hearne's 
 Preface, p. xlii. 
 
c h a p . i . ] and Inhabitants of Utopia. 155 
 
 as of that part where the cities be of further 
 distance asunder. None of the cities desire 
 to enlarge the bounds and limits of their 
 shires. For they count themselves rather the 
 good husbands, than the owners of their 
 lands. They have in the country, in a parts 
 of the shire, houses or farms builded, well ap- 
 pointed and furnished with all sorts of instru- 
 ments and tools belonging to husbandry. 
 These houses be inhabited of the citizens, 
 which come thither to dwell by course. No 
 houshold or farm in the country hath fewer 
 than fifty persons, men and women, besides 
 two bondmen, which be all under the rule 
 and order of the good man, and the good 
 wife of the house, being both very sage, 
 discreet, and ancient persons. And every 
 thirty farms or families have one head ruler, 
 which is called a Philarch* being as it were 
 a head bailiff; out of every one of these 
 
 * " Phylarchus" in More; which Burnet translates, per- 
 haps properly enough, " Magistrate." In the French 
 translation it is " Directeur." The original expression 
 is Greek, and means " the head of a tribe"— Qv\os-»£x>>' 
 X 
 
154 Description of the Island [b. ii. 
 
 families or farms, cometh every year into the 
 city, twenty persons, which have continued 
 two years before in the country. In their 
 place so many fresh be sent thither out of 
 the city, who of them that have been there 
 a year already, and be therefore expert and 
 cunning in husbandry, shall be instructed 
 and taught. And they the next year shall 
 teach each other. 
 
 This order is used for fear that either 
 scarceness of victuals, or some other like in- 
 commodity should chance, through lack of 
 knowledge, if they should be altogether 
 new, and fresh, and unexpert in husbandry. 
 This manner and fashion of yearly chang- 
 ing and renewing the occupiers of husbandry, 
 though it be solemn and customably used, to 
 the intent that no man shall be constrained 
 against his will to continue long in that hard 
 and sharp kind of life, yet many of them 
 have such a pleasure and delight in hus- 
 bandry, that they obtain a longer space of 
 years. These husbandmen plough and till 
 the ground, and breed up cattle, and pro- 
 vide and make ready wood, which they 
 
chap, i.] and Inhabitants of Utopia, 155 
 
 carry to the city either by land or water, as 
 they may most conveniently. 
 
 They bring up a great multitude of pul- 
 lein,* and that by a marvellous policy : for 
 the hens do not sit upon the eggs ; but by 
 keeping them in a certain equal heat they 
 bring life into them, and hatch them. The 
 chickens, as soon as they be come out of the 
 shell, follow men and women instead of the 
 hens. They bring up very few horses : nor 
 none but very fierce ones, and that for none 
 other use or purpose, but only to exercise their 
 youth in riding, and feats of arms:+ for 
 
 * Poultry: the above word, of rare occurrence in English, 
 is probably a corruption of the Latin word pullus, or of the 
 French poulet. 
 
 f More seems here to have imitated the hardy institu- 
 tions of the Persians, as described by Xenophon in the 
 early part of his first book of the Cyropaedia.— The young 
 men were trained up to the exercise of hunting ; of boldly 
 attacking, as well as successfully evading, the wild beasts 
 of the chase, in order to prepare them for " feats of 
 arms" — 5r» aM^rdr-n $ox.u aim i ptTuTn run I1P02 TON 
 nOAEMON J»a»." 
 
 The practice of young men's riding horses not only 
 met with the commendation of Ascham, but the dis- 
 use of it, in Queen Elizabeth's time, seems to have been 
 
156 Description of the Island [b. ii. 
 
 oxen be put to all the labour of ploughing 
 
 seriously regretted by him, " I do not write this," says 
 he (in his Schoolmaster), ** that I wolde dissuade yonge 
 jentlemen from ryding ; yea I am sorry, with all my harte, 
 that they be given no more to ryding than they be; for,' 
 of all outward qualities, to ride faire is most cumlie for 
 himself, most necessarie for his countrie, &c." p. 219> 
 Bennet's edit. 
 
 The reader has already been made acquainted [vol. i. 
 p. 69] with the principal athletic Games of our ancestors 
 at the period of Mo re's writing his Utopia. I shall now 
 inform him of the principal Exercises of his country- 
 men during the same period. " Strong or violent exer- 
 cises" (says Sir Thomas Elyot) " be these ; delvyng, spe- 
 cially in tough clay and hevy ; bearying or susteinyng of 
 heavy burdens ; climmyng or walkying against a stepe 
 upright hyll ; holdynge a rope and climmyng up thereby; 
 hangeyng by the hand, on any thyng above a man's reach, 
 that his feete touch not the ground ; standyng and holdyng 
 up or spreadyng the armes with the hands faste closed, and 
 abidyng so a long tyrne ; wrestling also with the armes and 
 legges; — all these kyndes of exercises, and other like 
 them, do augment strength, and thereby they serve only 
 for yong men which be inclined or be apt to the warres." 
 
 " Swift exercise, without violence, is runnyng, plaiyng 
 with weapons, tenyse, or throwing of the ball, trottyng 
 a space of grounde forwarde and backwarde, goeyng on 
 the toes, and holdyng up the handes — also swinging up 
 and down his armes without plummettes — daunsyng of 
 
chap, i . ] and Inhabitants of Utopia. 157 
 
 and drawing:* which they grant not to be 
 so good as horses at a sudden brunt, and (as 
 we say) at a dead lift ; but yet they hold an 
 opinion that oxen will abide and suffer much 
 more labour, pain, and hardiness than horses 
 will ; and they think that oxen be not in 
 danger and subject unto so many diseases, 
 
 galyardes, throwying of the ball, football plaie, throwying 
 of the long darte, runnyng in harneyse, and other lyke." 
 
 Castell ofHelth, fol. 50. edit. 1541. 
 * This, as every one knows, was the usual practice with 
 the ancients, and the custom may yet be seen in many 
 antique fragments of sculpture. In Heresbachius's book 
 of husbandry, which seems to have been the favourite 
 agricultural work of the sixteenth century (from the num- 
 ber of English translations that were made of it), the fol- 
 lowing instructions are given to buy draughtoxen. " Looke 
 that they be gentill, skilfull in their labour, fearful of the 
 goade and the driver, not dreading any water, or bridge; 
 great feeders, but softly, and not overhastily ; for such doo 
 best digest their meate." See Barnabe Googe's transla- 
 tion, fol. 128. ed. 1586, printed for John Wight. 
 
 The custom of ploughing with oxen prevails at the 
 present day. The principal reason for employing them 
 seems to be the cheapness of their purchase and keep, com- 
 pared with that of horses, and their value to the owner, 
 when the purposes of agriculture are accomplished, by selling 
 them as the most nutritious of animal food. 
 
158 Description of the Island [b. i i. 
 
 and that they be kept and maintained with 
 much less cost and charge : and finally that 
 they be good for meat, when they be past 
 labour. They sow corn only for bread ; for 
 their drink is either wine made of grapes, or 
 else of apples or pears, or else it is clear * 
 water : and many times meath t made of 
 honey, or liquorice sodden in water; for 
 thereof they have great store. And though 
 they know certainly (Tor they know it per- 
 fectly indeed) how much victuals the city 
 with the whole country or shire round 
 about it doth spend ; yet they sow much 
 
 * So the Persians, according to Xenophon — " ttmjV h t >?» t»« 
 £nJ/55, kwQuv*, uq AUO TOY nOTAMOY a^c-acrGa*. 
 
 f " Meath" is said by Johnson to be " drink, properly 
 made of honey, "for which the authority of Milton is given: 
 For drink the grape 
 She crushes, inoffensive musk, and meathes 
 From many a berry. 
 But I suspect it is pretty nearly, if not precisely, the same 
 as Mead; a liquor which is frequently sold by our publi- 
 cans, as their sign-board announces. The authorities for 
 the word " Mead" in Johnson, justify this conclusion. 
 
 The French translation reads " de l'eau, &c. souvent 
 bouillie avec du miel." 
 
chap, i.] and Inhabitants of Utopia. 159 
 
 more corn, and breed up much more cattle 
 than serveth for their own use, parting the 
 overplus among their borderers. Whatso- 
 ever necessary things be lacking in the coun- 
 try, all such stuff they fetch out of the city : 
 where without any exchange, they easily ob- 
 tain it of the magistrates of the city. For 
 every month many of them go into the city 
 on the holiday. When their harvest day 
 draweth near, and is at hand, then the 
 Philarches, which be the head officers and 
 bailiffs of husbandry, send word to the 
 magistrates of the city what number of har- 
 vest men is needful to be sent to them out 
 of the city : the which company of harvest 
 men, being ready at the day appointed, almost 
 in one fair day dispatcheth all the harvest 
 work. 
 
[ 160 ] 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Of the Cities, Streets, Houses, &c. 
 
 J\.s for the cities, whoso knoweth one of them 
 knoweth them all : they be all so like one to 
 another, as far forth as the nature of the place 
 permitteth. I will describe to you one or other 
 of them, for it skilleth * not greatly which: 
 but which rather thanAMAUROTE ? Of them 
 all, this is the worthiest and of most dignity. 
 For the residue knowledge i it for the head 
 city, because there is the council house. 
 Nor to me any of them all is better beloved, 
 as wherein I lived five whole years together. 
 The city of Amaurote standeth upon the side 
 of a low hill, in fashion almost four- square. ;£ 
 
 * " It matters not." The verb u skill" is now rarely used : 
 Johnson cites the authorities of Whitgift and Hooper, but I 
 have found it in Trevisa and Wickliffe. The latest English 
 classical writer, who has frequently used it in the above 
 sense, is Massinger. Pari, of Love, Duke of Milan, &c. 
 
 f This contraction of the verb " acknowledge" is used 
 also l>y Bucon. 
 
 I One is surprised to find the editor of this edition boast- 
 ing of its superiority over the first, when he has not only 
 
chap, ii.] Of the Cities, <&c. 161 
 
 For the breadth of it beginneth a little be- 
 neath the top of the hill, and still continueth 
 by the space of two miles, until it come to 
 the river of Atvyder. The length of it, 
 which lieth by the river's side, is somewhat 
 more. The river of Anyder riseth four and 
 twenty miles above Amaurote out of a little 
 spring: but being increased by other small 
 rivers and brooks that run into it, and among 
 other, two somewhat big ones ; before the 
 city, it is half a mile broad, and further, 
 broader. And forty miles beyond the city 
 it falleth into the ocean * sea. By all that 
 space that lieth between the sea and the city, 
 and certain miles also above the city, the 
 water ebbeth and floweth six hours together 
 
 increased the errors of Robinson's, but seems to have de- 
 lighted in adopting all its incongruous phrases, of which the 
 above is a sufficient specimen — " Figura quadrata" is 
 Mo re's language. The old translator meant that it had 
 " four sides in the fashion of a square." 
 
 * " The ocean sea" is precisely the " mare oceanum'' of 
 Caesar. Ocean, as an adjective, is used also by Milton ; 
 " ocean ware" and " ocean stream." Dr. Johnson says 
 that this is rather an obsolete mode of applying the word, 
 though it is conformable to the original import of it. More 
 •imply says, " excipitur oceano." 
 Y 
 
162 Of the Cities, » [b. n. 
 
 with a swift tide. When the sea floweth in, 
 for the length of thirty miles it filleth all the 
 Arvyder with salt water, and driveth back the 
 fresh water of the river. And somewhat 
 further, it changeth the sweetness of the fresh 
 water with the saltness. But a little beyond 
 that, the river waxeth sweet, and runneth 
 fore by the city fresh and pleasant. And 
 when the sea ebbeth, and goeth back again, 
 the fresh water followeth it almost even to the 
 very fall of the sea. There goeth a bridge 
 over the river, made not of piles or of tim- 
 ber, but of stone * work, with gorgeous and 
 substantial arches at that part of the city 
 that is farthest from the sea : to the intent 
 that ships may pass along fore by all the 
 side of the city without let. They have 
 also another river which indeed is not very 
 great ; but it runneth gently and pleasantly : 
 for it riseth even out of the same hill that the 
 city standeth upon, and runneth down a slope 
 through the midst of the city into Arvyder, 
 And because it riseth a little without the 
 
 * In the margin of Alsop's edition, it is said, " Herein 
 also doth London agree with Araaurote." 
 
chap, ii.] Streets, and Houses. 163 
 
 city, the Amauritians have inclosed the head- 
 spring of it, with strong fences, and bul- 
 warks, and so have joined it to the city. 
 This is done to the intent that the water 
 should not be stopped, nor turned away, 
 or poisoned, if their enemies should chance 
 to come upon them. From thence the 
 water is derived and conveyed down in 
 channels of brick, divers ways, into the 
 lower parts of the city. Where that cannot 
 be done, by reason that the place will not 
 suffer it, there they gather the rain water in 
 great cisterns, which doth them as good ser- 
 vice. The city is compassed about with a 
 high and thick stone wall, full of turrets and 
 bulwarks. A dry ditch, but deep and broad, 
 and overgrown with bushes, briars, and 
 thorns, goeth about three sides or quarters 
 of the city. To the fourth side, the river 
 itself serveth as a ditch. The Streets be ap- 
 pointed and set forth very commodious and 
 handsome, both for carriage, and also against 
 the winds. The houses be of fair and gor- 
 geous building, and on the street side they 
 stand joined together in a long row through 
 
164 Of the Cities, [b. ii. 
 
 the whole street without any partition or 
 separation. The streets be twenty * foot 
 broad. On the back side of the houses, 
 through the whole length of the street, lie 
 large gardens inclosed round about with the 
 back part of the streets. Every house hath 
 two doors, one into the street, and a postern 
 door on the back side into the garden : these 
 doors be made with two leaves, + never locked 
 nor bolted ; so easy to be opened, that they 
 will follow the least drawing of a finger, and 
 
 * More seems to have taken his idea of the proper width 
 of a street from the confined scale on which most of the 
 European cities were built in his time. — What would he 
 have said to our Oxford-street, one mile and a half long, 
 and on an average, sixty feet wide ? 
 
 f It is singular that all the translators should have adopt- 
 ed this expression, which is here almost unintelligible — 
 " Bifores apertiles" is More's phrase ; meaning simply that 
 the doors are divided into two flaps, or parts ; a fashion 
 now adopted in our drawing rooms, where two are con- 
 trived to be thrown open into one ; though I presume this 
 latter fashion was not dreamt of by the good Utopians, or 
 their historian. 
 
 At the conclusion of the above sentence [gardens], Alsop 
 giavely tells us in a marginal note, that " This geare 
 smelleth of Plato his community !" 
 
chap, ii.] Streets, and Houses. 165 
 
 shut again alone. Whoso will, may go 
 in, for there is nothing within the houses 
 that is private, or any man's own. And 
 every tenth year they change their houses 
 by lot. 
 
 They set great store by their gardens. In 
 them they have vineyards, all manner of 
 fruit, herbs, and flowers ; so pleasant, so 
 well furnished, and so finely kept, that 
 I never saw thing more fruitful, nor better 
 trimmed in any place. Their study and dili- 
 gence herein, cometh not only of pleasure, 
 but also of a certain strife and contention 
 that is between street and street, concerning 
 the trimming, husbanding, and furnishing of 
 their gardens : every man for his own part. 
 And verily you shall not lightly find in all 
 the city, any thing that is more commodious, 
 either for the profit of the citizens, or for 
 pleasure : and therefore it may seem that 
 the first founder of the city minded no- 
 thing so much as these gardens. For they 
 say that king Utopus himself, even at the 
 first beginning, appointed and drew forth 
 the platform of the city into this fashion 
 
166 Of the Cities, [b. ii, 
 
 and figure that it hath now ; but * the gallant 
 garnishing, and the beautiful setting forth of 
 it,whereunto he saw that one man's age would 
 not suffice, that he left to his posterity. For 
 their chronicles, which they keep written 
 with all diligent circumspection, containing 
 the history of 17 60 t years, even from the 
 first conquest of the island, record and wit- 
 ness that the houses in the beginning were 
 very low, and like homely cottages or poor 
 shepherd houses, made at all adventures of 
 every rude piece of timber, that came first to 
 
 * In Burnet and Warner the passage stands thus — " but 
 he left all that belonged to the ornament and improvement 
 of it, to be added by those that should come after him — 
 that being too much for one man to bring to perfection." 
 The original is as follows : " Sed ornatum, caeterumque 
 cultum, quibus unius setatem hominis haud suffecturam 
 vidit, posteris adjiciendum reliquit." 
 
 The expression " gallant garnishing" is here among the 
 earliest instances of it in our language. Johnson cites no- 
 thing more ancient than Shakspeare. Gray's " gallant 
 trim" is aualagous to it. 
 
 f 1 suspect More meant to ridicule the supposed anti- 
 quities of towns in general, or rather the positive manner 
 in which antiquaries are apt to assign old dates to them. 
 
chap, n.] Streets, and Houses. 167 
 
 hand with mud walls, and ridged roofs, 
 thatched over with straw. But now * the 
 houses be curiously builded after a gorgeous 
 and gallant sort, with three stories one over 
 another. The outsides of the walls be made 
 either of hard flint, or of plaister, or else of 
 brick, and the inner sides be well strength- 
 ened with timber work.t The roofs be plain 
 
 • The above is among the earliest specimens of the use of 
 this word in our language. — In the edition of 1551 it is spelt 
 " gorgiouse." 
 
 f " The progress of improvement in building" says Mr. 
 Ellis, in his amusing " Digression on the private Life of 
 the English," [Spec. Early Engl. Poets, vol. i. 327-] was 
 from clay to lath and plaster, which was formed into pan- 
 nels between the principal timbers : to floors coated with 
 plaster of Paris ; and to cielings overlaid with mortar and 
 washed with lime or plaster " of delectable whiteness." 
 Country-houses were generally covered with shingles ; but 
 in towns, the danger of fires obliged the inhabitants to 
 adopt the use of the tile or slate. " The walls of our houses 
 in the inner side, says Harrison, (who wrote in Q. Eliza- 
 beth's reign) be either hanged with tapestry, arras work, or 
 painted cloths, wherein either divers histories, or herbs, 
 beasts, knots, and such like, are stained ; or else they are 
 seeled with oak of our own, or wainscot brought hither out 
 of the east countries." Chron. p. 187. 
 
 The reader has before [vol. i. 69. note] had some ac- 
 
168 Of the Cities, [b . 1 1 . 
 
 and flat, covered with a certain kind of 
 piaister, that is of no cost, and yet so tem- 
 pered that no fire can hurt or perish it, 
 and withstandeth the violence of the wea- 
 ther better than any lead. They keep 
 the wind out of their windows with glass,* 
 for it is there much used ; and some where 
 also, with fine linen cloth dipped in oil or 
 
 count of the domestic manners and customs of the English ; 
 it may be here only necessary to observe, that, the plague 
 and sweating sickness, which prevailed in More's time, are 
 attributed by Erasmus to the structure of our clay floors, 
 apartments, and principally to the rushes that were strewed 
 upon them — " under which, says he, lies a putrid mixture 
 of beer, stinking fragments of food, and all sorts of nastiness." 
 The filth of our streets, and construction of our houses 
 at this time, are also censured by him. See his letter to 
 Francescus, Wolsey's Physician. Jortin's Life of Erasmus, 
 vol. ii. 341. 
 
 * Glazed windows were first introduced into this coun- 
 try, in the year 1 180, according to Dr. Anderson. History 
 of Com. vol. i. p. 90. edit. 1764. They are always men- 
 tioned by our early poets with an air of affectation which 
 evinces their rarity ; " so that," says Mr. Ellis, " we 
 are not surprised at being told that the yeomen and 
 farmers were perfectly contented with windows of lattice." 
 Spec. Early Engl. Poets, vol. i. 323. 
 
chap, ii.] Streets, and Houses. 169 
 
 amber,* and that for two commodities : for 
 by this means more light cometh in, and the 
 wind is better kept out. 
 
 * " The fondness of our ancestors for spices and per- 
 fumes of all kinds was excessive." Lydgate thought it 
 necessary that Venus, when rising from the sea, should be 
 " anointe with gums and ointments sweeter for to smell :" 
 and the author of the Romance of the " Squyr of Low 
 Degre," says 
 
 Whan you are layde in bedde so soft, 
 A cage of golde shall hange alofte. 
 With longe-pepper fayre burning, 
 And cloves that be swete smellyng, 
 Frankensense and olibanum, Sec. 
 
 v. 845—9. 
 Ritson's Metrical Romances, vol. iii. 180.— Ellis's Early 
 Engl. Poetry, vol. iii. 338 — 44. Consult also Ritson's in- 
 genious notes upon " The Squyr" — and upon the antiquity 
 of the Romance; which ** has been thought even anterior, 
 in point of date, to the time of Chaucer." The only copy 
 of it, in MS. or in print, that is known to exist, is the one 
 in the British Museum, formerly belonging to Garrick — 
 printed probably about the year lob'O. Ritson's Metr. 
 Rom. vol. iii. 344, &c. 
 
[ 170 ] [b. ii. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Of the Magistrates. 
 
 JCjV e r y thirty families or farms, choose 
 them yearly an officer, which in their old 
 language is called the Siphogrant, and by a 
 newer name, the Philarch. Every ten Sipho- 
 grants, with all their thirty families, be under 
 an officer, which was once called the Trani- 
 bore, now the chief Philarch. Moreover as 
 concerning the election of the prince, all the 
 Siphogrants, which be in number two hun- 
 dred, first be sworn to choose him, whom they 
 think most meet and expedient. Then by a 
 secret election,* they namePrince one of those 
 four whom the people before named unto 
 them. For out of the four quarters of the city 
 there be four chosen, out of every quarter one, 
 to stand for the election : which be put up to 
 the council. The Prince's office continueth 
 all his lifetime, unless he be deposed or put 
 
 * Alsop exclaims in a marginal note, " A mervilous 
 strange fashion in choosing magistrates!" 
 
chap, in.] Of the Magistrates. 17 1 
 
 down for suspicion of tyranny. They choose 
 the Tranibores yearly, but lightly they 
 change them not. All the other officers be 
 but for one year. The Tranibores every 
 third day, and sometimes, if need be, oftener, 
 come into the council house with the Prince. 
 Their counsel is concerning the common- 
 wealth. If there be any controversies among 
 the commoners, which be very few, they 
 dispatch and end them by and by. They 
 take ever two Siphogrants to them in coun- 
 sel, and every day a new couple. And it is 
 provided, that nothing touching the com- 
 mon-wealth shall be confirmed and ratified, 
 unless it have been reasoned of and debated, 
 three days in the counsel before it be de- 
 creed. It is death to have any consultation 
 for the common-wealth out of the council, 
 or the place of the common election. This 
 statute, they say, was made to the intent, 
 that the Prince and Tranibores might not 
 easily conspire together to oppress the peo- 
 ple by tyranny, and to change the state of 
 the weal-public. Therefore matters of great 
 weight and importance be brought to the 
 
172 Oj the Magistrates. [B. n. 
 
 election house of the Siphogrants, which, 
 open the matter to their families. And 
 afterward, when they have consulted among 
 themselves, they shew their devise of the 
 counsel. Sometime the matter is brought 
 before the counsel of the whole island. Fur- 
 thermore, this custom also the counsel useth, 
 to dispute or reason of no matter the same 
 day * that it is first proposed or put forth, but 
 to defer it to the next sitting of the counsel : 
 because that no man, when he hath rashly 
 there spoken what cometh to his tongue'send, 
 shall then afterward rather study for reasons 
 wherewith to defend and maintain his first 
 foolish sentence, than for the commodity of 
 the common-wealth — as one rather willing 
 the harm or hindrance of the weal-pub- 
 lic, than any loss or diminution of his own 
 estimation. And as one that would be 
 ashamed (which is a very foolish shame) to 
 
 * More borrowed this law from the usages of his own 
 country, but particularly from the custom of our House of 
 Commons ; where notice is always given for leave to bring 
 in a bill, or to make a motion on any important national 
 question, at a future day. 
 
chap, in.] Oj the Magistrates. 173 
 
 be counted any thing at the fiist over seen in 
 the matter ; who at the first ought to have 
 spoken rather wisely, than hastily or rashly.* 
 
 * This concluding sentence is very obscure. The ori- 
 ginal is as follows : " Malitque salutis publicae, quam opi- 
 nionis de se jacturara facere, perverso quodarn ac prepos- 
 tero pudore, ne initio parum prospexisse videatur. Cui 
 prospiciendum initio fuit, ut consultd potius, quam cito 
 loqueretur." Which Burnet more intelligibly translates — 
 "and by a perverse and preposterous sort of shame, hazard 
 their country rather than endanger their own reputation, 
 or venture the being suspected to have wanted foresight in 
 the expedients that they at first proposed : and therefore, 
 to prevent this, they take care that they may rather be de- 
 liberate than sudden in their motions." But how para- 
 phrastic is this, compared with the sententious brevity of 
 the original Latin ? The French translation is not quite so 
 loose as the English. 
 
[ J 74 ] [b. ii. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Trades, Arts, Professions, and Occupations 
 of the Utopians. 
 
 JTlusBANDRY * is a science common to 
 them all in general, both men and women, 
 wherein they be all expert and cunning. In 
 this they be all instructed even from their 
 youth : partly in their schools with traditions 
 and precepts, and partly in the country nigh 
 the city, brought up as it were in playing, 
 not only beholding the use of it, but by oc- 
 casion of exercising their bodies, practising 
 
 * " What swestnesse thinke we to find in Husbandrye 
 and in in the labour of the rusticall state, the whiche 
 seemeth sweete, luckie, peaceable, simple, and innocent : 
 Many Patiarkes and Prophets have chosen this kinde of 
 living, as that in which there is least guile or deceite; also, 
 many Roman emperors have, in times past, left their pal- 
 laices ; capitalls, arckes, triumphes, glorious and faire 
 buildings and empires, with all the rest of their worldlie 
 majestie, for to remaine in the fieldes, to till and labour 
 with their own handes the earth, trees and garden !" 
 
 Theatre or Rule of the World, p. 74. edit. 1581. 
 
c h . I v . ] Trades ■, Arts , Professio ns^c. 175 
 
 it also. Besides husbandry, which (as I said) 
 is common to them all, every one of them 
 learneth one or other several and particular 
 science, as his own proper craft. That 
 is, most commonly, either cloth-working in 
 wool or flax, or masonry, or the smith's craft, 
 or the carpenter's science : for there is none 
 other occupation that any number, to speak 
 of, doth use there. 
 
 For their Garments, these throughout all 
 the island be of one fashion ; (saving that 
 there is a difference between the man's gar- 
 ment and the woman's ; between the married 
 and the unmarried) ; and this one continueth 
 for evermore unchanged, seemly and comely 
 to the eye, no let to the moving and * weld- 
 ing of the body, also fit both for winter and 
 summer : as for these garments (I say), every 
 family maketh their own. But of the other 
 foresaid crafts, every man learneth one : and 
 
 * " Weld," is said by Johnson to mean the beating of 
 one mass into another, " so as to incorporate them." Mr. 
 Todd, in his edition of Spencer, applies to it the meaning 
 of " wield" — VVarton and Upton being quoted in support 
 of it. 
 
176 Trades, Arts, Professions, and [b. ii. 
 
 not only the men but also the women. But 
 the women, as the weaker sort, be put 
 to the easier crafts : as to work wool and 
 flax.* The more laboursome sciences be 
 committed to the men. For the most part, 
 every man is brought up in his father's 
 craft: for most commonly they be natu- 
 rally thereto bent and inclined. But if a 
 man's mind stand to any other, he is by 
 adoption put into a family of that occupa- 
 tion which he doth most fancy. Whom not 
 only his father, but also the magistrate do 
 diligently look to, that he be put to a dis- 
 creet and an honest householder. Yea, and 
 if any person, when he hath learned one 
 craft, be desirous to learn also another, he is 
 
 * This very ancient occupation of women is mentioned 
 by Homer. Hector is made thus to address his wife 
 Andromache ; 
 
 'ATOC tU oTxoy I5<ra rot Qctvriis eg/a xo/a»£« 
 
 'lr6*r\ iXaxaT»* ts. Iliad, lib. vi. v. 490,1. 
 
 *• hasten to thy tasks at home, 
 
 There guide the spindle, and direct the loom." 
 
 Pope's transl. 
 " Hence, then, to our abode ; there weave or spin, 
 And task thy maidens." Cowper's do. 
 
ch. iv.] Occupations of the Utopians. 177 
 
 likewise suffered and permitted. When he 
 hath learned both, he occupieth whether he 
 will : unless the city hath more need of the 
 one than the other. The chief and almost 
 the only office of the Siphogrants is, to 
 see and take heed that no man sit idle ; but 
 that every one apply his own craft with 
 earnest diligence. And yet for all that, not 
 to be wearied from early in the morning to 
 late in the evening, with continual work, 
 like labouring and toiling beasts. For this is 
 worse than the miserable and wretched con- 
 dition of bondmen. 
 
 Which nevertheless is almost every where 
 the life of workmen and artificers, saving in 
 Utopia. For they dividing the day and the 
 night into twenty-four just hours, appoint 
 and assign only six of those hours to work 
 before noon, upon the which they go straight 
 to dinner, and after dinner, when they have 
 rested two hours, then they work three 
 hours, and upon that they go to supper. 
 About eight of the clock in the evening 
 (counting one of the clock the first hour after 
 noon) they go to bed : eight hours they give 
 
 a a 
 
178 Trades, Arts, Professions, and [b. ii. 
 
 to sleep. All the void time that is between 
 the hours of work, sleep, and meat, that 
 they be suffered to bestow every man as he 
 liketh best himself. Not to the intent that 
 they should mispend this time in riot, or 
 slothfulness, but being then licensed from 
 the labour of their own occupations, to be- 
 stow the time well and thriftily upon some 
 other science, as shall please them : for it is 
 a solemn custom there, to have lectures daily, 
 early in the morning : whereto they only be 
 constrained to be present that be chosen and 
 appointed to learning. Howbeit a great 
 multitude of every sort of people, both men 
 and women, go to hear lectures,* some one 
 and some another, as every man's nature is 
 
 * The above plan of giving lectures is now realised 
 in this country, by the establishment of the Royal In- 
 stitution, in Albemarle Street, London. It was at first 
 the fashion to ridicule any thing which savoured of the 
 learning of a Metropolitan University ; but experience has 
 shewn that these lectures have been productive of solid en- 
 tertainment and extensive good. The first characters in the 
 country, both male and female, for rank and talent, have 
 attended them — and the Lecturers who are appointed 
 to read (generally for the space of three quarters of an hour, 
 
ch. iv.] Occupations of the Utopians ■• 179 
 
 inclined. Yet this notwithstanding, if any 
 man had rather bestow this time upon his 
 own occupation, as it chanceth in many 
 (whose minds rise not in the contemplation 
 of any science liberal), he is not letted or pro- 
 hibited, but is also praised and commended, 
 as profitable to the common-wealth. After 
 supper they bestow one hour in play: in 
 summer, in their gardens : in winter, in their 
 common halls, where they dine and sup. 
 There they exercise themselves in music, or 
 else in honest and wholesome communica- 
 tion. Dice-play, and such other foolish and 
 pernicious games, they know not; but they 
 use two games, not much unlike the chess.* 
 
 to an audience of from three to seven hundred people) are 
 gentlemen who have been brought up at our Universities, 
 or who have distinguished themselves by their attainments 
 in particular arts or sciences. I recommend the reader to 
 peruse some excellent observations upon this Institution, 
 which appeared in the Critical Review for September, 1807 
 — as preliminary remarks to a review of Dr. Young's elabo- 
 rate and truly valuable " Lectures on Natural Philosophy, 
 and the Mechanical Arts," 4to. 2 vols. 1807. 
 
 * The respect which More shews for this admirable 
 game is not to be wondered at. King's, philosopher!, 
 warriors, poets, scholars, have all been enamoured of it; — 
 
180 Trades, Arts, Professions, and [b. ii. 
 
 The one is the battle of numbers, wherein 
 one number stealeth away another. The 
 other is where vices fight with virtues, as it 
 were in battle array, or a set field. In the 
 which game is very properly shewed, both the 
 strife and discord that the vices have among 
 themselves, and again, their unity and con- 
 cord against virtues. And also what vices 
 be repugnant to what virtues: with what 
 power and strength they assail them openly : 
 by what wiles and subtilty they assault 
 
 and a little volume of amusing anecdotes might be com- 
 posed of its fascinating effects — but enough of these have 
 been already before the public. — I will here only observe, 
 that the first book written upon it, in our language, was by 
 " William Caxton," who printed the same in ihe year 
 1474 ; and again, without date, with a number of curious 
 wood cuts. Caxton's work is a translation from the 
 French of Iehan De Vignay, who, in turn, is supposed to 
 have translated it from the Latin of Jacobus de Coesollis, 
 which was probably first composed about the beginning of 
 the 13th century. The principal, if not the only book on 
 Chess in the Spanish language is a 4to one of three hundred 
 pages, by R. L. De Sigura, printed in 1 56l. Carrera's book 
 is the celebrated Italian one : it is in 4to. l6l7» and is full 
 of information. A copy of it is in the British Museum. 
 His Majesty possesses both the books printed by Caxton. 
 
ch. iv.] Occupations of the Utopians. 181 
 
 them secretly : with what help and aid the 
 virtues resist and overcome the puissance * 
 of the vices : by what craft they frustrate 
 their purposes: and finally by what sleight 
 or means the one getteth the victory. But 
 here, lest you be deceived, one thing you must 
 look more narrowly upon. For seeing they 
 bestow but six hours in work, perchance you 
 may think that the lack of some necessary 
 things hereof may ensue. But this is nothing 
 so; for that small time is not only enough, 
 but also too much for the store and abun- 
 dance of all things that be requisite, either 
 for the necessity or commodity of life. 
 The which thing you also shall perceive, if 
 you weigh and consider with yourselves how 
 great a part of the people in other countries 
 liveth idle. First, almost all women, t which 
 
 * In Robinson's translation of the Utopia, probably, the 
 English word puissance first appeared ; which Johnson inti- 
 mates is pronounced as if itwereof twosyllables. Theelegant 
 author of the " Pleasures of Hope" has divided it into three ; 
 " Yet for Sarmatia's tears of blood atone, 
 And make her arm puissant as your own." 
 t This is not generally true. The greater part of the more 
 uncivilised countries of the world afford instances rather of the 
 
182 Trades^ Arts, Professions > and [b. ii. 
 
 be the half of the whole number : or else, if 
 the women be somewhere occupied, there 
 most commonly in their stead the men be 
 idle. Besides this, how great and how idle 
 a company is there of priests and religious 
 men, as they call them ; put thereto all rich 
 men, specially all landed men, which com- 
 monly be called gentlemen and noblemen 
 — take into this number also their servants : 
 I mean all that flock of stout bragging 
 rushbucklers.* Join to them also sturdy 
 and valiant beggars, cloaking their idle life 
 under the colour of some disease or sickness. 
 And truly you shall find them much fewer 
 than you thought, by whose labour all these 
 
 activity of women and indolence of men, than of the con- 
 trary. In England, it seems superfluous to mention the 
 well-known industry of the female character — industry, 
 which is directed to all the amiable and virtuous ends of 
 human existence! Thomson, in his Seasons (Autumn, 
 v. 579.) will furnish the reader with a correct picture of 
 his country-women. 
 
 * " Illam cetratorum nebulonum colluviem" — literally, 
 " that rabble or multitude of bullying fellows dressed up 
 with swords," — alluding to the custom of servants then 
 wearing scymitars or swords, (vide ante, vol.i. p. 54. note.) 
 
en. iv.] Occupations of the Utopians . 183 
 
 things are wrought, that in men's affairs are 
 now daily used and frequented. Now con- 
 sider with yourself, of these few that do 
 work, how few be occupied in necessary 
 work? For where money beareth all the 
 swing,* there many vain and superfluous oc- 
 cupations must needs be used to serve only 
 for riotous superfluity, and unhonest plea- 
 sure : for the same multitude that now is oc- 
 cupied in work, if they were divided into so 
 few occupations, as the necessary use of na- 
 ture requireth, in so great plenty of things 
 as then of necessity would ensue, doubtless 
 the prices would be too little for the arti- 
 ficers to maintain their livings. 
 
 Burnet and Warner tamely say, " idle persons that are 
 kept more for shew than use." The French translation, which 
 is in this place sufficiently paraphrastic, says here, however, 
 properly enough — " toute cette canaille de Valets armez." 
 
 The above expression " rushbucklers," which seems to 
 have been coined on purpose for the Latin phrase " cetra- 
 torum nebulonum" — meaning that the servants bucklers 
 were as flimsey as rushes— is, I believe, to be found in few 
 authors of the l6th century. 
 
 * Johnson has not given us this illustration of the word 
 swing — it means U sway." 
 
184 Trades, Arts, Professions, and [b. ii. 
 
 But if all these, that be now busied about 
 unprofitable occupations, with all the whole 
 flock of them that live idly and slothfully, 
 which consume and waste every one of them 
 more of these things that come by other 
 men's labour, than two of the workmen 
 themselves do : if all these (I say) were set 
 to profitable occupations, you easily per- 
 ceive how little time would be enough, yea, 
 and too much, to store us with all things 
 that may be requisite either for necessity or 
 commodity, yea or for pleasure, so that the 
 same pleasure be true and natural. And 
 this in Utopia the thing itself maketh mani- 
 fest and plain. For there, in all the city, 
 with the whole country or shire adjoining to 
 it, scarcely five hundred persons of all the 
 whole number of men and women, that be 
 neither too old nor too weak to work, be 
 licensed and discharged from labour. Among 
 them be the Siphogrants (who though they 
 be by the laws exempt and privileged from 
 labour) yet they exempt not themselves: 
 to the intent they may the rather by their 
 example provoke others to work. 
 
gh. iv.] Occupations of the Utopians. 185 
 
 The same vacation from labour do they 
 also enjoy, to whom the people, persuaded 
 by the commendation of the priests, and 
 secret election of the Siphogrants, have given 
 a perpetual license, from labour to learning. 
 But if any one^f them prove not according 
 to the expectation and hope of him con- 
 ceived, he is forthwith plucked back to the 
 company of artificers : and contrarywise. 
 And often it chanceth that a handycraftsman 
 doth so earnestly bestow his vacant and 
 spare hours in learning, and through dili- 
 gence so profiteth therein, that he is taken 
 from his handy occupation, and promoted to 
 the company of the learned. Out of this 
 order of the learned be chosen ambassa- 
 dors, priests, Tranibores, and finally the 
 prince himself. Whom they in their old 
 tongue call Barzanes, and by a newer name 
 Adamus. 
 
 The residue of the people being neither 
 idle, nor yet occupied about unprofitable 
 exercises, it may be easily judged in how few 
 hours how much good work by them may 
 be done and dispatched, towards those 
 b b 
 
186 Trades, Arts> Professions, and [b. ii. 
 
 things that I have spoken off. This com- 
 modity they have also above other, that in the 
 most part of necessary occupations they need 
 not so much work as other nations do. For 
 first of all, the building or repairing of houses 
 asketh every where so many men's continual 
 labour, because that the unthrifty heir suf- 
 fereth the houses that his father builded, in 
 continuance of time to fall in decay. So 
 that which he might have upholden with 
 little cost, his successor is constrained to 
 build it again a new to his great charge. 
 Yea many times also, the house that stood 
 one man in much money — another is of 
 so nice and so delicate a mind, that he 
 setteth nothing by it ! and it being neglected, 
 and therefore shortly falling into ruin, he 
 buildeth up another in another place with no 
 less cost and charge. 
 
 But among the Utopians, where all things 
 be set in good order, and the common- 
 wealth in a good stay, it seldom chanceth 
 that they choose a new plot to build an 
 house upon. And they do not only find 
 speedy and quick remedies for present 
 
ch. iv.] Occupations oj the Utopians. 187 
 
 faults ; but also prevent them that be like to 
 fall. And by this means, their houses con- 
 tinue and last very long with little labour 
 and small reparations ; insomuch, that these 
 kind of workmen sometimes have almost no- 
 thing to do. But then they be commanded 
 to hew timber at home, and to square and trim 
 up stones, to the intent that, if any work 
 chance, it may the speedilier rise. 
 
 Now, Sir, in their apparel* mark (I pray 
 you) how few workmen they need. First 
 of all, whilst they be at work, they be 
 covered homely with leather or skins, that 
 will last seven years. When they go forth 
 abroad, they cast upon them a cloak which 
 hideth the other homely apparel. These 
 cloaks throughout the whole island be all of 
 one colour, and that is the natural colour of 
 the wool. They therefore do not only 
 spend much less woollen cloth, than is 
 spent in other countries, but also the same 
 standeth them in much less cost. But linen 
 cloth is made with much less labour, and is 
 therefore had more in use. But in linen 
 * See vol. i. p. 54. 64. note. 
 
188 Trades, Arts, Professions, and [b. ii. 
 
 cloth, only whiteness — in woollen, only 
 cleanliness — is regarded. As for the small- 
 ness 01 fineness of the thread, that is no- 
 thing passed for. And this is the cause 
 wherefore in other places, four or five cloth 
 gowns of divers colours, and as many silk 
 coats, be not enough for one man. Yea, and 
 if he be of the delicate and nice sort, ten be 
 too few : whereas there one garment will 
 serve a man most commonly two years : for 
 why should he desire more ? seeing if he 
 had them, he should not be the better haptt 
 or covered from cold — neither in his apparel 
 any whit thecomlier! Wherefore seeing 
 they be all exercised in profitable occupa- 
 tions, and that few artificers in the same 
 crafts be sufficient : this is the cause that 
 plenty of all things be among them. They 
 do sometimes brins; forth an innumerable 
 company of people to amend the highways, 
 if any be broken. Many times also, when 
 they have no such work to be occupied 
 about, an open proclamation is made that 
 they shall bestow fewer hours in work : for 
 
 * Conditioned: from hap, chance, fortune. 
 
ch. iv.] Occupations of the Utopians. 1 89 
 
 the magistrates do not exercise their citizens 
 against their wills in unneedful labours. For 
 why,* in the institution of the weal-public, 
 this end is only and chiefly pretended and 
 minded — that what time may possibly be 
 spared from the necessary occupations and 
 affairs of the common-wealth, all that the 
 citizens should withdraw from the bodily 
 service to the free liberty of the mind, and 
 garnishing of the same. For herein they 
 suppose the felicity of this life to consist. 
 
 * Because. 
 
[ 190 j [b. ii. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Domestic Life and Character of the Utopians. 
 
 JDut now will I declare how the citizens use 
 themselves one to another: what familiar 
 occupying and entertainment, there is among 
 the people, and what fashion they use in the 
 distribution of every thing. 
 
 First, the city consisteth of families : the 
 families most commonly be made of kindreds. 
 For the women when they be married at a law- 
 ful age, they go into their husbands houses. 
 But the male children, with all the whole 
 male offspring continue still in their own 
 family, and be governed of the eldest and 
 ancientest father, unless he dote * for age : for 
 then the next to him in age is placed in his 
 room. But to the intent the prescript num- 
 ber of the citizens should neither decrease, nor 
 above measure increase; it is ordained that 
 no family, which in every city be six thousand 
 in the whole, besides them of the country, 
 
 * Unless he be impaired in intellect on account of age : the 
 above mode of expression is very uncommon. 
 
ch. v.] Domestic Life, &c. 191 
 
 shall at once have fewer children of the age 
 of fourteen years or thereabout, than ten, or 
 more than sixteen ; for of children under 
 this age, no number can be prescribed or ap- 
 pointed. This measure or number is easily 
 observed and kept, by putting them, that 
 in fuller families be above the number, into 
 families of smaller increase. But if chance 
 be, that in the whole city the store increase 
 above the just number, therewith they fill up 
 the lack of other cities. But if so be that the 
 whole multitude throughout the whole island, 
 pass and exceed the due number, then they 
 choose out of every city, certain citizens, 
 and build up a town under their own laws in 
 the next land, where the inhabitants have 
 much waste and unoccupied ground, receiv- 
 ing also of the same country people to them, 
 if they will join and dwell with them. They, 
 thus joining and dwelling together, do easily 
 agree in one fashion of living, and that to 
 the great wealth of both the people : for 
 they so bring the matter about by their laws, 
 that the ground, which before was neither 
 good nor profitable for the one nor for the 
 
192 Domestic Life and [b. ii. 
 
 other, is now sufficient and fruitful enough for 
 them both. But if the inhabitants of the 
 land will not dwell with them to be ordered 
 by their laws, then they drive them out of 
 those bounds which they have limited and 
 appointed out for themselves. 
 
 And if they resist and rebel, then they 
 make war against them. For they count 
 this the most just cause of war — when any 
 people holdeth a piece of ground void and 
 vacant to no good nor profitable use ; keep- 
 ing other from the use and possession of 
 it, which, notwithstanding, by the law of 
 nature, ought thereof to be nourished and 
 relieved. If any chance do so much dimi- 
 nish the number of any of their cities, that 
 it cannot be filled up again, without the 
 diminishing of the just number of the other 
 cities (which they say chanced but twice 
 since the beginning of the land, through 
 a great pestilent plague), then they fulfil 
 and make up the number with citizens 
 fetched out of their own foreign towns ; for 
 they had rather suffer their foreign towns to 
 decay and perish, than any city of their own 
 
ch. v.] Character of the Utopians. 193 
 
 island to be diminished. But now again to 
 the conversation of the citizens among them- 
 selves. 
 
 The eldest (as I said) ruleth the family. 
 The wives be ministers to their husbands, 
 the children to their parents,* and, to be 
 short, the younger to their elders. Every city 
 is divided into four equal parts or quarters. 
 In the midst of every quarter there is a 
 market place of all manner of things. Thither 
 the works of every family be brought into 
 certain houses : and every kind of thing is 
 laid up several + in barns or storehouses. 
 From hence the father of every family, or 
 every householder, fetcheth whatsoever he 
 and his have need of, and carrieth it away 
 with him without money, without exchange, 
 without any gage, pawn, or pledge. For why 
 should any thing be denied unto him, 
 
 * More had the highest opinion, and was himself a most 
 striking example, of filial obedience. When he was Lord 
 Chancellor, and met his father, Sir John More, Chief Jus- 
 tice of the King's Bench, in Westminster Hall, in his way 
 to the Court of Chancery — he would fall upon his knees and 
 beg his blessing — insisting, too, upon the precedence of his 
 father. 
 
 t Separately. 
 
 C C 
 
194 Domestic Life and [b. ii. 
 
 seeing there is abundance of all things ? and 
 that it is not to be feared lest any man 
 will ask more than he needeth ! For why- 
 should it be thought that that man would 
 ask more than enough, which is sure never 
 to lack ? Certainly, in all kinds of living 
 creatures, either fear of lack doth cause 
 covetousness and ravin — or in man, only 
 pride — which counteth it a glorious thing to 
 pass and excel other in the superfluous and 
 vain ostentation of things. The which kind 
 of vice among the Utopians can have no place. 
 Next to the market-places that I speak of, 
 stand Meat-markets: whither be brought, not 
 only all sorts of herbs, and the fruits of 
 trees, with bread — but also fish, and all 
 manner of four footed beasts, and wild fowl, 
 that be man's meat. But first the filthiness 
 and ordure thereof is clean washed away 
 in the running river without the city, in 
 places appointed meet for the same purpose. 
 From thence the beasts be brought in killed, 
 and clean washed by the hands of their bond- 
 men: for they permit not their free citizens to 
 accustom themselves to the killing of beasts, 
 through the use whereof, they think clemency, 
 
ch. v.] Character of the Utopians. 195 
 
 the gentlest affection of our nature, by little 
 and little to decay and perish. Neither they 
 suffer any thing that is filthy, loathsome, or 
 uncleanly, to be brought into the city, lest the 
 air by stench thereof, infected and corrupt, 
 should cause pestilent diseases. Moreover, 
 every street hath certain great large halls set 
 in equal distance one from another, every one 
 known by a several name. In these halls 
 dwell the Siphogranis. And to every one 
 of the same halls be appointed thirty families, 
 on either side, fifteen. The stewards of 
 every hall, at a certain hour, come into the 
 meat markets, where they receive meat ac- 
 cording te the number of their halls. 
 
 But first and chiefly of all, respect is had 
 to the sick, that be cured in the hospitals. 
 For in the circuit of the city, a little without 
 the walls, they have four hospitals, so big, so 
 wide, so ample, and so large, that they may 
 seem four little towns, which were devised 
 of that bigness, partly to the intent the sick, 
 be they never so many in number, should not 
 lie too throng or strait, and therefore uneasily 
 and incommodiously : and partly that they, 
 
196 Domestic Life and [b. n. 
 
 which were taken and holden with conta- 
 gious diseases, such as be wont by infection 
 to creep from one to another, might be laid 
 afar from the company of the residue. 
 
 These hospitals * be so well appointed, 
 and with all things necessary to health so 
 furnished, and moreover so diligent atten- 
 dance through the continual presence of 
 cunning + physicians is given, that though 
 no man be sent thither against his will, 
 yet, notwithstanding, there is no sick per- 
 son in all the city that had not rather 
 lie there than at home at his own house. 
 When the steward of the sick hath re- 
 ceived such meats as the physicians have 
 prescribed, then the best is equally divided 
 among the halls according to the company 
 
 * The Utopians management of their sick is very judi- 
 cious. Although the hospitals in London are spacious and 
 airy, they are, in too many instances, surrounded by houses : 
 this is not the fault of their founders, but the effect of an 
 increased population, and a consequent necessity of build- 
 ing. Qu. however, whether a law to prevent building within 
 a certain distance from an hospital, might not be the means of 
 sometimes preventing the propagation of epidemic diseases? 
 
 t The old expression for expert — skilful. 
 
ch. v.] Character of the Utopians. 197 
 
 of every one ; saving there is had a respect to 
 the Prince, the Bishop, the Tranibores, and 
 to ambassadors and all strangers, if there be 
 any, which be very few and seldom. But 
 they also, when they be there, have certain 
 several houses appointed and prepared for 
 them. To these halls, at the set hours of 
 dinner and supper, cometh all the Sipho- 
 granty or ward, warned by the noise of a 
 brazen trumpet ; except such as be sick in 
 the hospitals, or else in their own houses. 
 
 Howbeit, no man is prohibited or forbid, 
 after the halls be served, to fetch home 
 meat out of the market to his own house ; 
 for they know that no man will do it with- 
 out a reasonable cause. For though no man 
 be prohibited to dine at home, yet no man 
 doth it willingly ; because it is counted a 
 point of small honesty. And also it were 
 a folly to take the pain to dress a bad dinner 
 at home, when they may be welcome to good 
 and fine fare so nigh hand at the hall. 
 
 In this hall, all vile service, and all slavery, 
 with all laboursome toil, and drudgery, and 
 base business, is done by bondmen. But the 
 
198 Domestic Life and [b. ii. 
 
 women of every family by course have the 
 office and charge of cookery for seething* 
 
 * Boiling. More was probably unacquainted with the 
 superiority of Men-Cooks : in the present times, and espe- 
 cially in the houses of the great and affluent, it may be 
 questioned whether, next to the master and his family, there 
 be a more important inmate than the Man-Cook — whose 
 chief excellence seems to consist in a thorough knowledge 
 of the arcana of French Cookery? ! The facetious Sir 
 Thomas Overbury has given us an admirable character of 
 a French Cook, about two hundred years ago, which is not 
 much unlike that of the present race of them. 
 " A French Cook." 
 
 He learnt his trade in a towne of garison near farmish't, 
 where hee practised to make a little go farre ; some derive 
 it from more antiquity, and say, Adam (when he pickt 
 sallets) was of his occupation. He doth not feed the belly, 
 but the palate ; and though his command lie in the kitchen 
 [which is but an inferiour place] yet shall you find him a 
 very sawcy companion. Ever since the wars in Naples, he 
 hath so minc't the ancient and bountifull allowance, as if 
 his nation should keepe a perpetual diet. The servingmen 
 call him " the last relique of Popery," that makes men fast 
 against their conscience. He can be truely said to be no man's 
 felow but his master's ; for the rest of his servants are star- 
 ved by him. He is the prime cause why noblemen build 
 their houses so great ; for the smalnesse of their kitchen 
 makes the house the bigger ; and the Lord calls him his 
 " Alchymist" that can extract gold out of hearbes, rootes, 
 
ch. v.] Character oj the Utopians. 199 
 
 and dressing the meat, and ordering all 
 things thereto belonging. They sit at three 
 tables or more, according to the number of 
 their company. The men sit upon the 
 bench next the wall, and the women against 
 them on the other side of the table ; and if 
 any sudden evil should chance to them, as 
 many times happeneth to women with child, 
 they may rise without trouble or disturbance 
 of any body, and go thence into the nursery.* 
 The nurses sit several alone with their young 
 sucklings, in a certain parlour appointed and 
 deputed to the same purpose — never without 
 
 mushroomes,or any thing — that which he dresses, we may 
 rather call a drinking than a meal ; yet he is so full of va- 
 nity, that he brags (and truly), that he gives you but a taste 
 of what he can doe ! He dare not for his life come among 
 the butchers ; for sure they would quarter and bake him 
 after the English fashion, he's such an enemy to beef and 
 mutton ! To conclude, he were only fit to make a funeral 
 feast, where men should eat their victuals in mourning !" 
 Characters, edit. 1630. 
 
 * There is great delicacy and good sense in the order 
 observed by the Utopians relating to the women. From a 
 man who wore a hair shirt next his breast, as More did, it 
 is not always that we obtain such wise maxims about clean- 
 liness, &c. 
 
200 Domestic Life and [b. n. 
 
 fire and clean water, nor yet without cradles ; 
 that when they will, they may lay down the 
 young infants, and at their pleasure take 
 them out of their swathing cloaths, and hold 
 them to the fire, and refresh them with * 
 
 * The natural benevolence and parental tenderness of 
 More's disposition, are strongly evinced in this part of the 
 Utopia, where he lays down laws for the management of 
 Children. How beautiful and how just are the sentiments 
 of Boiastuau on this subject! ** Nature (says he) can give 
 us but one father and one mother, but matrimony repre- 
 sented many in our children ; the whiche do reverence and 
 honour us, who are more deare than our proper bowels. 
 Being young and little, they play, prattle, laugh, and shew 
 as many apish toyes ; they prepare us an infinite number 
 of plesures ; it seemeth that they are recreations and pas- 
 times that nature hath given us, for to deceive and passe 
 awaye part of our miserable lyfe : if we be vexed with age, 
 [a thing common to all] they solace the discommoditie of 
 our age, close our eyes, and bring us to the earth from 
 whence we came : they are our bones, our flesh, and blood; 
 seeing them, we see ourselves — in such sort, that the father 
 seeing his children may be assured that he seeth his lyvely 
 youth renued in the face of his children, in whom we are 
 regenerate and borne again — in such sort, that, age is not 
 grievous unto us ; beholdng the mirrors or similitudes of 
 our selves, that elevate the memorie of us, and make us 
 almost immortal." Theatre or Rule of the World, p. 1 28,9. 
 
ch .v.] Character of the Utopians* 201 
 
 play. Every mother is nurse to her own 
 
 CHILD, UNLESS EITHER DEATH, Or SICK- 
 NESS, be the let.* When that chanceth, 
 the wives of the Siphogrants quickly pro- 
 vide a nurse. And that is not hard to be done, 
 for they that can do it, proffer themselves 
 to no service so gladly as to that. Because 
 that there, this kind of pity is much praised : 
 and the child that is nourished, ever after 
 taketh his nurse for his own natural mother. 
 Also among the nurses, sit all the children 
 that be under the age of five years. All the 
 other children of both kinds, as well boys as 
 girls, that be under the age of marriage, do 
 either serve at the tables, or else if they be too 
 young thereto, they stand by with marvellous 
 silence. That which is given to them from the 
 table they eat, and other several dinner time 
 they have none. The Siphogrant and his wife 
 sit in the midst of the high table, for as much 
 as that is counted the honourablest place, and 
 because from thence, all the whole company 
 is in their sight. For that table standeth 
 
 * I have marked this passage in capital letters, for rea- 
 sons which some female readers will immediately perceive 
 and approve. 
 
 D d 
 
202 Domestic Life and [b. ii. 
 
 overthwart the over end of the hall. To 
 thembejoinedtwoofthe ancientest and eldest. 
 For at every table they sit four at a mess.* 
 But if there be a church standing in that 
 Siphogranty, or ward, then the priest and 
 his wife + sitteth with the Siphogrant, as chief 
 in the company. On both sides of them sit 
 young men, and next unto them again, old 
 men. And thus throughout all the house, 
 
 * Qu. how far More has made his Utopians, in this 
 instance, imitate the custom observed at the Inn of Court 
 (Lincoln's Inn) where he was himself brought up ? The 
 students always dine '* four at a mess ?" 
 
 f " It is plain from the author's giving the priest a wife in 
 this place, that, contrary to the superstition of his own reli- 
 gion, he was a friend to the marriage of ecclesiastics. If he 
 did not penetrate into the secret reason of the see of Rome 
 for decreeing their celibacy — as perhaps he did not — yet 
 the visible designs of that court, and the known wickedness 
 and ambition of those prelates who promoted it, must have 
 convinced him that holiness and purity were the things 
 considered in the canon on that subject. He could not but 
 know too, that the law of Christ had not abridged them 
 of the right which was given them by the law of nature ; 
 and that any power forbidding what the natural law had 
 allowed, had been foretold as one of the marks of the 
 antichristian spirit." Warner. 
 
ch. v.] Character of the Utopians. 20$ 
 
 equal of age be set together, and yet be mixt 
 and matched with unequal ages. 
 
 This, they say, was ordained, to the intent 
 that the sage gravity and reverence of the 
 elders should keep the youngers from wan- 
 ton license of words and behaviour : for as 
 much as nothing can be so secretly spoken or 
 done at the table, but either they that sit on 
 the one side or on the other, must needs per- 
 ceive it. The dishes be not set down in 
 order from the first place, but all the old 
 men (whose places be marked with some 
 special token to be known) be first served of 
 their meat, and then the residue, equally. 
 The old men divide their dainties, as they 
 think best, to the younger on each side of 
 them. Thus the elders be not defrauded of 
 their due honour, and nevertheless equal 
 commodity cometh to every one. They 
 begin every dinner and supper with reading 
 something that pertaineth to good manners 
 and virtue. But it is short, because no man 
 shall be grieved therewith. Hereof the el- 
 ders take occasion of honest communication, 
 but neither sad nor unplesant. Howbeit, they 
 
204 Domestic Life and [b. n. 
 
 do not spend all the whole dinner time them- 
 selves with long and tedious talk, but they 
 gladly hear also the young men : yea, and 
 purposely provoke them to talk, to the intent 
 that they may have a proof of every man's 
 wit, and towardness, or disposition to virtue ; 
 which commonly in the liberty of feasting, 
 doth shew and utter itself.* Their dinners 
 be very short ; but their suppers be somewhat 
 longer,t because that after dinner folioweth 
 
 * The old maxim," In vino Veritas," was here, probably, 
 in the recollection of More : so true is it, that the feelings of 
 the human heart, and all the native frankness of the soul, 
 seem to display themselves spontaneously in the social hour 
 of festivity and merriment ! 
 
 t " Concernyng the generall usage of countries (says 
 Sir Thomas Elyot, in his Castell of Helth), and admitting 
 the bodies to be in perfect state of health, I suppose that, 
 in England, yong men untill they come to the age of x 
 yeres, may well eat thre meales in one daie, as at breake- 
 fast, dyner, and supper ; so that betwene breakfast and 
 diner, be the space of iiiihoures at the lest; betwene diner 
 and supper vi houres." fol. 42. b. edit. 1541. This was 
 probably the custom observed in England when More wrote 
 his Utopia; for Sir Thomas Elyot composed this curious 
 (and now very scarce) little book at the commencement of 
 the l6th century. If this custom were now to be observed, 
 
ch. v.] Character of the Utopians. 305 
 
 labour ; after supper, sleep and natural rest ; 
 which they think to be of more strength and 
 efficacy to wholesome and healthful digestion. 
 No supper is passed without music. t Nor 
 
 the supper would take place between the hours of 10 and 
 12 at night; allowing the general dinner hour, among the 
 most respectable classes of society , to be from 4 to 6 o'clock. 
 But, in fact, the dinner is now made the supper too : this 
 latter meal, professedly as such, being rarely introduced. 
 
 X More was passionately fond of music; and he takes 
 occasion in this place to evince his love of it, by making it, 
 rather than the drinking of strong liquors, the exhilarator 
 of the spirits. " More sometimes recreated his tired spirits 
 on the viol ; perfecting himself in most of the liberal sciences, 
 as Music," &c. u His first wife, which was but young, he 
 caused to be instructed in learning, and to be taught all kind 
 of music." The principal recreations of his family were 
 " either music of voices, or viols; for which cause he pro- 
 cured his [second] wife to play thereon, to draw her mind 
 from the world," &c. More's Life of his Great-grand- 
 father, 4to edit. 54, 121, 127. 
 
 Vocal and instrumental music seem to have been fashi- 
 onable at this period, and especially at court. " King 
 Henry the Eight (says Peacham) could not only sing his 
 part sure, but of himself compose a service of foure, five, 
 and sixe parts ; as Erasmus, in a certaine epistle, testifieth 
 of his owne knowledge." In Farrag. Epist. See Peacham's 
 " Compleat Gentleman," p. 99. edit. l66l. 
 
206 Domestic Life and [b. ii. 
 
 their banquets want no conceits, nor junkets.* 
 They burn sweet gums and spices or per- 
 fumes, and pleasant smells, and sprinkle about 
 sweet ointments and waters, yea, they have 
 nothing undone thatmaketh for the cherish- 
 ingt of the company. For they be much 
 
 * " Nee ullis caret secunda mensa belariis,"" and there 
 is always fruit served up after dinner," say Burnet and 
 Warner. " On y a au dessert, says the French translator, 
 toute sorte de confitures et de friandises," which is similar 
 to the above ; " nor their bankettes lacke no conceytes nor 
 junckettes" ed. 1551. Conceits, comfits, or junkets, 
 mean sweatmeats ; each word being a translation of " bel- 
 laria,"— " dried fruits or roots preserved with sugar." See 
 Skinner and Junius : the latter has a curious illustration 
 of it. 
 
 Sweatmeats were a favourite dish with our ances- 
 tors, and were generally eaten before, or during, din- 
 ner with other meats. Sir Thomas Elyot, tells us, that 
 *' Fruites confectionate, specially with hony, are not to 
 be eaten with other meates." A little further, he advises 
 his reader to " take hedethat slippery meates be not fiyrste 
 eaten, nor that stiptik nor restraining meates be taken at 
 the begynning; as quynces, peares, and medlars." Castell 
 of Helth, fol. 45. 6. 
 
 f Our author appears to have been a liberally-minded 
 man in his ideas of social entertainment. In his prac- 
 tice, as regarded himself, he was abstemious and simple 
 
ch. v.] Character of the Utopians. 207 
 
 inclined to this opinion: to think no kind of 
 pleasure forbidden, whereof cometh no harm. 
 Thus, therefore, and after this sort, they live 
 together in the city ; but in the country, they 
 that dwell alone, far from any neighbours, 
 do dine at home in their own houses: for no 
 family there lacketh any victuals, as from 
 whom cometh all that the citizens eat and 
 live by.+ 
 
 to a degree. " He used to eate at his meales but of one 
 dish, which was powdered biefe, or some such like salt meate, 
 although his table was furnished with much varietie; and 
 what meate he first tasted on, the same would he for that 
 time make his whole refection of. In his youth, he ab- 
 stained from wine ; and in his later yeares, he would taste 
 thereof, but first it must be well alayed with water." 
 More's Life of his Great Grandfather, 4to. edit. 42. 
 
 •f- The antiquary will view, throughout the whole, din- 
 ner and supper arrangement of the Utopians, a faithful pic- 
 ture of the customs of the times : which are thus related 
 by Dr. Henry, from the best authorities — and which are 
 too amusing to be withheld from the curious reader. 
 
 t( The Cookery of the English at this period cannot now 
 be appreciated, or distinguished otherwise than by a pro- 
 fusion of hot spices with which every dish was indiscrimi- 
 nately seasoned. Dinner and supper were served in the 
 hall, where the first was placed in a sort of recess, or ele- 
 vation, at the upper end, and reserved for the landlord and 
 
208 Domestic Life and [b. n. 
 
 his principal guests, while visitors less respectable were 
 seated with the officers of the household at long and nar- 
 row tables that occupied the sides and the middle of the 
 hall. The rank of the guests was again discriminated in 
 their arrangement, by their situation above or below the 
 salt-cellar; which was placed invariably in the middle of 
 the table, and the usher was carefully instructed to displace 
 such as might seat themselves unmannerly above their bet- 
 ters. The chief servants attended always above the salt- 
 cellar; beneath which the table was probably crowded with 
 poor dependants, whom the guests despised, and the ser- 
 vants neglected. The servants were marshalled, and the 
 dishes served, by orders issued aloud from the usher; and 
 at table none presumed to taste of the dishes, till they were 
 drawn successively upwards to the principal personage, 
 from whom they descended again to the rest of the com- 
 pany. Churchmen affected peculiar ceremony, and the 
 Abbot of St. Alban's dined with greater state than the 
 nobility themselves. His table was elevated fifteen steps 
 above the hall, and, in serving his dinner, the monks, at 
 every fifth step, performed a hymn. He dined alone at the 
 middle of his table, to the ends of which guests of distin- 
 guished rank were admitted ; and the monks, after their 
 attendance on the abbot was over, sat down to tables at 
 the sides of the hall, and were served with equal respect 
 by the novices. At Wolsey's entertainment of the French 
 ambassadors, the company was summoned by trumpet 
 to supper, and the courses were announced by a prelude 
 of music. The second course contained upwards of an 
 hundred devices or subtilties ; castles, churches, animals, 
 warriors justing on foot and on horseback ; others dancing 
 
ch. v.] Character of the Utopians. 209 
 
 with ladies, " all as well counterfeited, says the historian, 
 (Stowe), as the painter should have painted on a cloth or 
 wall." Such entertainments were not of short duration ; 
 the dinner hour was eleven in the forenoon, the supper six 
 in the evening ; but the dinner was often prolonged till 
 supper, and that protracted till late at night." Hist, of 
 Great Britain xii. 376, &c. [Holingshed, 166, 170. Antiq. 
 Repert, vol. iii. 6l. 154. 18fj. Warton's Hist. Eng. Poet, 
 vol. iii. 343. n. Northumberland Household Book — all 
 quoted by Dr. Henry.] This latter authority is a very rare 
 and curious performance, giving an account of the Earl of 
 Northumberland's household establishment in 1512. It was 
 edited by Dr. Percy, Bishop of Dromore, in 8vo. 1770, and 
 printed only for private circulation. See Bibl. Stevens. N. 
 1710. 
 
 It would appear from Harrison, that the sumptuous fare of 
 our ancestors in the lfjth century operated as a curious 
 contrast to the meanness of their houses. " Certes (says he) 
 this rude kind of building made the Spaniards in Queen 
 Mary's days to wonder ; but chiefly when they saw what 
 large diet was used in many of these so homely cottages ; 
 insomuch that one, of no small reputation among them, said 
 after this manner : " The Englishmen, quoth he, have their 
 houses made of sticks and dirt, but they fare commonly as 
 well as the king!" p. 187; quoted in Mr. Ellis's Spec. 
 Eng. Poet. vol. i. 322, 3. 
 
 e e 
 
[ 210 ] [b. ii. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Modes of Travelling, &c. 
 
 Jjut if any be desirous to visit either their 
 friends dwelling in another city, or to see the 
 place itself, they easily obtain license of the 
 Siphogrants and Tranibores, unless there be 
 some profitable let. No man goeth out alone, 
 but a company is sent forth, together with 
 their prince's letters, who do testify that they 
 have license to go that journey, and prescri- 
 beth also the day of their return. 
 
 They have a wain* given them, with a com- 
 mon bondman, which driveth the oxen, and 
 taketh charge of them. But unless they have 
 women in their company, they send home 
 the wain again, as an impediment and let. 
 And though they carry nothing forth with 
 them, yet in all their journey they lack no- 
 thing. For wheresoever they come, they be 
 at home. 4- If they tarry in a place longer 
 
 * A contraction of waggon; the word is used by Spenser. 
 See Johnson's Dictionary in loc. 
 
 * " Ubiqvie enim domi sunt:" a constituent part of a per- 
 
ch. vi.] Traffic, Money, &c. 211 
 
 than one day, then there every one of them 
 falleth to his own occupation, and be very 
 gently entertained of the workmen and com* 
 paniesofthe same crafts. Ifanymanof hisown 
 head and without leave, walk out of his pre- 
 cinct and bounds, and be taken without the 
 Prince's letters, he is brought again for a fugi- 
 tive, or a run-away, with great shame and re- 
 buke, and is sharply punished If he be taken 
 in that fault again, he is punished with bon- 
 dage. If any be desirous to walk abroad into 
 the fields, or into the country that belongeth 
 to the same city that he dwelleth in, obtaining 
 
 feet commonwealth, and one of the chief sources of human 
 happiness. A great portion of the wretchedness of society 
 consists in the ridiculous forms and ceremonies of visiting. 
 Perhaps our posterity, some 200 years hence, may be 
 surprised to find that being " at home" now means a pre- 
 paration to receive more visitors than the apartments will 
 hold. When rooms are crammed to suffocation, it is then, 
 emphatically, or rather fashionably, speaking, that the good 
 lady of the house (see her, or catch her, if you can !) is en- 
 joying the comforts of home ! To be more explicit, when 
 a card of invitation is now sent out, with, two monosyllables 
 upon it, " at home," it is an intimation that the mistress 
 of this home is anxious to enjoy a little domestic circle of 
 about 2 or 3, or 500 finely dressed ladies and gentlemen ! 
 
212 Modes of Travelling, [ b . 1 1 . 
 
 the good will of his father, and the consent of 
 his wife,* he is not prohibited. But unto what 
 part of the country soever he cometh, he hath 
 no meat given him until he have wrought out 
 his forenoon's task, or dispatched so much 
 work as there is wont to be wrought before 
 supper. Observing this law and condition, 
 he may go whither he will, within the bounds 
 of his own city : for he shall be no less pro- 
 fitable to the city, than if he were within it. 
 Now you see how little "liberty they have to 
 loiter ; how they can have no cloak or pre- 
 tence to idleness. 
 
 There be neither wine-taverns, nor ale- 
 houses, f nor stews, nor any occasion of vice 
 
 * The complaisance of the Utopians towards their wives 
 is truly exemplary. I fear the Europeans do not in every 
 respect imitate their example ! 
 
 f " Without going the author's length in extinguishing all 
 property, it is incontestibly to be demonstrated, even under 
 our own establishment in this nation, that a great part of 
 the degeneracy we complain of, arises from the vast number 
 of taverns and ale-houses that are tolerated, for the sake of 
 the tax which is paid for a licence. The morals of our peo- 
 ple are not only corrupted in these places, by their loose 
 and idle conversation, and the excesses which are com- 
 mitted in them, but the whole profits of their shops and 
 
ch. vi.] Traffic, Money, &c. 213 
 
 or wickedness, no lurking corners, no places 
 
 labour, which should support their families, are often 
 swallowed up there; to the destruction of their own health, 
 the misery of their wives and children, and at last to the 
 ruin of them all. Warner. 
 
 How forcibly have these vices been delineated by the 
 original pencil of Cowper — and in what strong language 
 has this excise-tax been reprobated ! 
 
 Pass where we may, through city or through town, 
 Village, or hamlet, of this merry land, 
 Though lean and beggar'd — every twentieth pace 
 Conducts the unguarded nose to such a whiff 
 Of stale debauch, forth issuing from the styes 
 That law has licensed, as makes temperance reel. 
 
 The Excise is fattened with the rich result 
 
 Of all this riot ; and ten thousand casks, 
 
 For ever dribbling out their base contents, 
 
 Touched by the Midas-finger of the state, 
 
 Bleed gold for ministers to sport away. 
 
 Drink and be mad, then ! 'Tis your country bids! 
 
 Gloriously drink, obey the important call ! 
 
 Her cause demands the assistance of your throats, 
 
 Ye all can swallow, and she asks no more. 
 
 Task, book iv. 
 The vice of Drinking does not seem to have ceased, 
 or abated even, in this country, in consequence of the 
 rebukes of our legislative philosopher. The middle and 
 close of the sixteenth century were as remarkable for hard 
 drinking as the opening of it. George Gascoigne, who in 
 
214 Modes of Travelling, [b. ii. 
 
 of wicked counsels or unlawful assemblies, 
 but they be in the present sight, and under 
 the eyes of every man. So that of necessity 
 they must either apply their accustomed la- 
 bours, or else recreate themselves with honest 
 and laudable pastimes. 
 
 the year 157$ wrote a religious tract entitled, " A delicate 
 diet for daintie mouthde droonkardes : wherein the fowle 
 abuse of common carousing, and quaffing with hartie 
 draughtes, is honestlie admonished," draws the following 
 picture of the English at that time. " The Almaines with 
 their small Renish wine are contented; or rather then faile 
 a cup of beere may entreate them to stoupe. But we must 
 have Marchbeere, dooble beere, Dagger ale, Bragget,Renish 
 wine, White wine, French wine, Gascoyne wine, Sacke 
 Hollocke, Canaria wine, Vino greco, Vinum amabile, and 
 al the wines that may be gotten. Yea, wine of itselfe is not 
 sufficient; but Suger, Limons, and sundry sortes of spices, 
 must be drowned therein." A little further, he tells us that 
 some " nyne draughts, yea nyneteene draughts, nay some- 
 time nine and twenty doo not suffice ?" See Waldron's Lite- 
 rary Museum, p. 18,19, where this tract is re-printed. 
 
 From Henry Peacham, who published the first edition 
 of his " Compleat Gentleman" in 1622, we learn that the 
 English kept up their reputation for drinking at the com- 
 mencement of the 17th century. '< Within these fifty or three- 
 score years (says he) it was a rare thing with us in England 
 to see a drunken man [which, by the bye, contradicts Gas- 
 
ch.vi.] Traffic, Money, &c. 215 
 
 This fashion and trade of life' being: used 
 among the people, it cannot be chosen, but 
 that they must of necessity have store and 
 plenty of all things. And seeing they be all 
 thereof partners equally, therefore can no 
 man there be poor or needy. In the coun- 
 cil of Amaurote, whither, as I said, every city 
 sendeth three men a-piece yearly, as soon as 
 it is perfectly known of what things there is 
 in every place, plenty ; and again, what 
 things be scant in any place ; incontinent, the 
 lack of the one is performed and filled up 
 with the abundance of the other. And this 
 they do freely without any benefit, taking 
 nothing again of them to whom the thing is 
 given; but those cities that have given of their 
 store to any other city that lacketh, requiring 
 
 coigne's testimony] ; our nation carrying the name of the 
 most sober and temperate of any other in the world ; but 
 since we had to do with the quarrel in the Netherlands, about 
 the time of Sir John Norrice his first being there, the cus- 
 tom of drinking and pledging healths was brought over into 
 England; wherein, let the Dutch be their own judges if we 
 equal them not : yea, I think rather excell them." See p. 
 203. ed. 1627 : p. 272 ed. l66l : also the note about 
 " Taverns" in vol. i. 65, 6. 
 
2 1 6 Modes of Travelling* [ b . 1 1 . 
 
 nothing again of the same city, do take such 
 things as they lack of another city to the 
 which they gave nothing. So the whole land 
 is, as it were, one family or household. 
 
 When they have made sufficient provision 
 of store for themselves (which they think not 
 done until they have provided for two years 
 following, because of the uncertainty of the 
 nextyear's proof), then ofthosethingswhereof 
 they have abundance, they carry forth into 
 other countries great plenty:- as grain, ho- 
 ney, wool, flax, wood, madder, purple-dyed 
 fells,* wax, tallow, leather, and living beasts. 
 And the seventh part of all these things they 
 give frankly and freely to the poor of that 
 country. The residue they sell at a reasonable 
 and mean price. By this means of traffic or 
 merchandize, they bring into their own coun- 
 try not only great plenty of gold and silver, 
 but also all such things as they lack at home, 
 
 * What is here called " madder, and purple-dyed fells" 
 is written thus in the original — " cocci, et conchyliorum, 
 vellerum," &c. which I conceive to be " scarlet, and 
 purple colours, and skins of beasts." — Burnet and Warner 
 have unaccountably overlooked these words. 
 
ch. vi.] Traffic, Money, &c. 217 
 
 which is almost nothing but iron. And by 
 reason they have long used this trade, now 
 they have more abundance of these things, 
 than any man will believe. 
 
 Now, therefore, they care not whether they 
 sell for ready money, or else upon trust to 
 be paid at a day, and to have the most part 
 in debts. But in so doing they never follow 
 the credence of private men ; but the assur- 
 ance or warranty, of the whole city, by in- 
 struments and writings made in that behalf 
 accordingly. When the day of payment is 
 come and expired, the city gathereth up the 
 debt of the private debtors, and putteth it 
 into the common box, and so long hath the 
 use and profit of it, until the Utopians their 
 creditors demand it. The most part of it, 
 they never ask. For that thing, which to 
 them is no profit to take from other to whom 
 it is profitable, they think it no right nor con- 
 science. But if the case so stand, that they 
 must lend part of that money to another peo- 
 ple, then they require their debt ; or when 
 they have war. For the which purpose only, 
 they keep at home all the treasure which they 
 Ff 
 
812 Modes of Travelling, [b. i i . 
 
 have to be holpen and succoured by it, either 
 in extreme jeopardies, or in sudden dangers. 
 But especially and chiefly to hire therewith, 
 and that for unreasonable great wages, strange 
 soldiers. For they had rather put strangers in 
 jeopardy, than their own countrymen : know- 
 ing that for money enough, their enemies 
 themselves many times may be bought and 
 sold, or else, through treason, be set together 
 by the ears among themselves. For this cause 
 they keep an inestimable treasure ; but yet 
 not as treasure. But so they have it, and use it, 
 as, in goodfaith, I am ashamed to shew: fear- 
 ing that my words shall not be believed.* And 
 this 1 have more cause to fear, for that I know 
 how difficultly and hardly I myself would 
 have believed another man telling the same, if 
 I had not presently seen it with mine eyes. 
 
 For it must needs be, that, how far a thing 
 is dissonant-*- and disagreeing from the guise 
 and trade of the hearers, so far shall it be 
 
 * The translator Alsop places this marginal note oppo- 
 site—" Ofine wit !" 
 
 t Johnson cites no authority so ancient as this for an 
 illustration of the word " dissonant." 
 
ch. vi.] Traffic, Money, &c. 219 
 
 out of their belief. Howbeit, a wise and in- 
 different esteemer of things, will not greatly 
 marvel, perchance, seeing all their other laws 
 and customs do so much differ from ours, if 
 the use also of gold and silver among them, 
 be applied rather to their own fashions, than 
 to ours. I mean, in that they occupy not mo- 
 ney themselves, but keep it for that chance, 
 which, as it may happen, so it may be that it 
 shall never come to pass. In the mean time, 
 gold and silver, whereof money is made, they 
 do so use, as none of them doth more esteem 
 it than the very nature of the thing deserved. 
 And then, who doth not plainly see how 
 far it is under* iron ? as without the which, 
 men can no better live than without fire and 
 
 * Inferior to. More afforded, in his own example, an 
 excellent illustration of the above sentiments respecting 
 the right use of money. No man before, or after, him ever 
 resigned the seals of the chancellorship with so scanty an 
 income to live upon. " All the lands which he ever pur- 
 chased [says his great grandson] being, as my uncle Roper 
 well knew, notabove the value of twenty marks by the year ; 
 and, after his debts paid, he had not, of my uncle's own 
 knowledge (his golden chain excepted), in gold and silver 
 left him, the worth of one hundred pounds." More'sLife 
 of his Great Grandfather, 4to. edit. 24$. 
 
220 Modes of Travelling, [b. ii. 
 
 water. Whereas to gold and silver, nature 
 hath given no use that we may not well lack : 
 if that the folly of men had not set it in higher 
 estimation for the rareness sake. But of the 
 contrary part, nature, as a most tender and 
 loving mother, hath placed the best and ne- 
 cessary things open abroad ; as the air, the 
 water, and the earth itself: and hath remov- 
 ed, and hid farthest from us, vain and un- 
 profitable things. Therefore, if these metals 
 among them should be fast locked up in some 
 tower, it might be suspected that the prince 
 and the counsel (as the people is ever fool- 
 ishly imagining) intended by some subtlety 
 to deceive the commons, and to take some 
 profit of it to themselves. Furthermore, if 
 they should make thereof plate, and such 
 other finely and cunningly wrought stuff — if 
 at any time they should have occasion to 
 break it, and melt it again, therewith to pay 
 their soldiers wages — they see and perceive 
 very well, that men would be loth to part 
 from those things that they once began to 
 have pleasure and delight in. To remedy 
 all this, they have found out a means, which 
 
CH. vi.] Traffic, Money, &c. 521 
 
 as it is agreeable to all their other laws and 
 customs, so is it from ours, where gold is so 
 much set by, and so diligently kept, very 
 far discrepant and repugnant: and therefore 
 uncredible — but only to them that be wise. 
 For whereas they eat and drink in earthen 
 and glass vessels — which indeed be curiously 
 and properly made, and yet be of very small 
 value — of gold and silver they make cham- 
 ber-pots, and other vessels that serve for 
 most vile * uses ; not only in their common 
 halls, but in every man's private house. 
 Furthermore, of the same metals they make 
 great chains, fetters, and gyves, wherein 
 they tie their bondmen. 
 
 Finally, whosoever for any offence be 
 infamed,* by their ears hang rings of gold: 
 upon their fingers they wear rings of gold : 
 and about their neck chains of gold : and, in 
 
 • This is one of the strongest satires ever written against 
 gold; well might Alsop exclaim in the margin of his edi- 
 tion, 4< wonderful contumely of gold !" 
 
 t Subject to reproach or punishment. The word is 
 used by Bacon and Milton. See Johnson in loc. Perhaps 
 the above is among the earliest instances of it in our lan- 
 guage. 
 
222 Modes of Travelling, [b. ii. 
 
 conclusion, their heads be tied with gold. 
 Thus by all means possible they procure to 
 have gold and silver among them in reproach 
 and infamy. And these metals, which other 
 nations do as grievously and sorrowfully 
 forego, as in a manner their own lives— if they 
 should altogether at once be taken from the 
 Utopians, no man there would think that he 
 had lost the worth of one farthing ! 
 
 They gather also pearls by the sea side, and 
 diamonds and carbuncles upon certain rocks, 
 and yet they seek not for them : but by 
 chance finding them, they cut and polish 
 them ; and therewith they deck their young 
 infants. Which, like as in the first years of 
 their childhood they make much, and be 
 fond and proud of such ornaments, so, when 
 they be a little more grown in years and 
 discretion, perceiving that none but children 
 do wear such toys and trifles, they lay them 
 away even of their own shamefastness,* with- 
 out any bidding of their parents : even as our 
 children, when they wax bigger, do cast away 
 nuts, brooches, and puppets. Therefore 
 
 * Shamefacedness. 
 
ch. vi.] Traffic, Money ■, &c. 523 
 
 these laws and customs, which be so far dif- 
 ferent from all other nations, how divers 
 fantasies also and minds they do cause, did I 
 never so plainly perceive as in the ambassa- 
 dors of the Anemolians. 
 
 These ambassadors came to Amaurote 
 while I was there. And because they came 
 to entreat of great and weighty matters, 
 three citizens a-piece, out of every city, were 
 come thither before them. But all the am- 
 bassadors of the next countries, which had 
 been there before, and knew the fashions and 
 manners of the Utopians — among whom they 
 perceived no honour given to sumptuous ap- 
 parel, silks to be contemned, gold also to be 
 infamed and reproachful — were wont to come 
 thither in very homely and simple array. 
 But the Anemolians, because they dwell far 
 thence, and had very little acquaintance with 
 them, hearing that they were all apparelled 
 alike, and that very rudely and homely,* 
 thinking them not to have the things which 
 
 f More's own private apparel was sufficiently " rude 
 and homely." " He used oftentimes to weare a sharp shirt 
 of hayre next his skinne, which he never left of wholy j 
 no, not when he was Lord Chancellour of England : which 
 
224 Modes of Travelling, [b. u. 
 
 they did not wear — being therefore more 
 proud than wise, determined in the gor- 
 geousness of their apparel to represent very 
 gods ; and with the bright shining and glis- 
 tering of their gay clothing, to dazzle the eyes 
 of the silly poor Utopians. 
 
 So there came in four ambassadors, with 
 one hundred servants, all apparelled in 
 changeable colours : the most of them in silks: 
 the ambassadors themselves (for at home in 
 their own country they were noblemen) in 
 cloth of gold, with great chains of gold, with 
 gold hanging at their ears, with gold rings 
 
 my grandmother on a time, in the heate of summer, [as he 
 sate at supper single in his doublet and hose, wearing there- 
 upon a plain shirt, without ruffe or collar,] chancing to 
 espie, laught at — not being much sensible of such kinde of 
 spiritual exercises." More's Life of his Great Grandfather, 
 4to. ed. 27- Hoddesdon's Life, p. 62.3. 
 
 The benevolent disposition of More was strongly evinced 
 on this occasion : it seems that his favourite daughter, 
 Margaret, [" not ignorant of his custom,"] told him of her 
 sister's discovery — " and he," (says Hoddesdon,) " being 
 sorry that she had seen it, presently amended it." A little 
 further we are told, that he caused the said favourite 
 daughter, M as need required, to wash the same shirt of 
 hair." 
 
ch. vi.] Traffic, Money, &c. 225 
 
 upon their fingers, with broches * and aig- 
 lets t of gold upon their caps, which glis- 
 tered full of pearls and precious stones: to be 
 short, trimmed and adorned with all those 
 things which, among the Utopians, were either 
 the punishment of bondmen, or the reproach 
 of infamed persons, or else trifles for young 
 children to play withall. Therefore it would 
 have done a man good at his heart, to have 
 seen how proudly they displayed their 
 peacocks feathers, how much they made of 
 their painted sheaths, and how loftily they 
 set forth and advanced themselves, when they 
 compared their gallant apparel with the 
 poor raiment of the Utopians. For all the 
 people were swarmed forth into the streets. 
 
 And on the other side, it was no less plea- 
 sure to consider how much they were de- 
 ceived, and how far they missed of their 
 
 * A brocke " seems to have signified originally the 
 tongue of a buckle or clasp ; and from thence the buckle or 
 clasp itself." Tyrrw. Glossary to Chaucer's C. T.The word 
 is now always used in the latter sense. 
 
 + " A point or tag of a lace" — from the French aiguil- 
 lette: see Johnson in loc. and Mr. Todd's note in his edi- 
 tion of Spenser, vol. vi. p. 365. 
 
 G g 
 
226 Modes of Travelling, [b. ii. 
 
 purpose ; being contrary ways taken than 
 they thought they should have been. For to 
 the eyes of all the Utopians, except very few, 
 (which had been in other countries for some 
 reasonable cause) all thatgorgeousness of ap- 
 parel seemed shameful and reproachful; inso- 
 much, that they most reverently saluted the 
 vilest and most abject of them for lords : 
 passing over the ambassadors themselves 
 without any honour ; judging them, by their 
 wearing of golden chains, to be bondmen. 
 Yea, you should have seen children also, 
 that had cast away their pearls and precious 
 stones, when they saw the like sticking upon 
 the ambassadors caps — dig and push their 
 mothers under the sides, * saying thus to 
 them. M Look, mother, how great a lubber 
 doth yet wear pearls and precious stones, as 
 though he were a little child again !" 
 
 * " Compellare matrem, ac latus fodere," — " call to 
 their mothers, push them gently," say Burnet and Warner — 
 but the action is more forcibly described in the old trans- 
 lation. — A child instinctively attacks its mother in this 
 manner on any sudden emotion of joy or surprise. In the 
 French translation it is tamely said — " disoient a leurs 
 meres en les poussant." 
 
ch. vi.] Traffic, Money, <&c. 221 
 
 But the mother, yea, and that also in good 
 earnest : "Peace, son (saith she), I think he be 
 some of the ambassadors fools !" Some found 
 fault at their golden chains, as to no use nor 
 purpose, being so small and weak that a 
 bondman might easily break them; and again 
 so wide and large, that when it pleased him 
 he might cast them off, and run away at 
 liberty whither he would. 
 
 But when the ambassadors had been there 
 a day or two, and saw so great abundance of 
 gold so lightly esteemed, yea in no less re- 
 proach, than it was with them in honour — 
 and besides that, more gold in the chains 
 and gyves of one fugitive bondman, than 
 all the costly ornaments of them three was 
 worth — they began to abate their courage, 
 and for very shame laid away all that gor- 
 geous array whereof they were so proud. 
 And specially when they had talked fami- 
 liarly with the Utopians, and had learned all 
 their fashions and opinions.* 
 
 * There is in no writer a finer passage, illustrative of the 
 folly of mere wealth (unapplied to right uses), than the whole 
 of this narrative relating to the Anemolian ambassadors. 
 
528 Modes of Travelling, [b. ii. 
 
 For they marvel that any men be so 
 foolish as to have delight and pleasure in the 
 doubtful glistering of a little trifling stone, 
 which may behold any of the stars, or else 
 the sun itself. Or that any man is so mad as 
 to count himself the nobler for the smaller or 
 finer thread of wool, which self-same wool 
 (be it now never so fine spun thread) a sheep 
 did once wear: and yet was she all that 
 time no other thing than a sheep ! They 
 marvel also that gold, which of the own na- 
 ture is a thing so unprofitable, is now among 
 all people in so high estimation, that man 
 himself, by whom, yea, and for the use of 
 whom, it is so much set by, is in much less 
 estimation than the gold itself. Insomuch 
 that a lumpish blockhead churl, and which 
 hath no more wit than an ass, yea and as 
 full of naughtiness as of folly, shall have 
 nevertheless many wise and good men in 
 subjection and bondage, only for this — be- 
 cause he hath a great heap of gold ! Which 
 if it should be taken from him by any 
 
 The irony is delicate yet keen — and the story well deserves 
 the marginal annotation of its first printer, Froben — " Ele- 
 gantissima fabula !" 
 
ch. vi.] Traffic, Money, <&c. 229 
 
 tune, or by some subtle wile and cautei * 
 of the law, (which no less than fortune doth 
 both raise up the low, and pluck down the 
 high), and be given to the most vile slave 
 and abject drivel of all his houshold, then 
 shortly after he shall go into the service of 
 his servant, as an augmentation or overplus 
 beside his money. 
 
 But they much more marvel at and detest 
 the madness of them, which, to those rich 
 men, in whose debt and danger they be not, 
 do give almost divine honours, for none 
 other consideration, but because they be 
 rich ! — and yet knowing them to be such 
 niggish + 'penny-fathers, that they be sure, 
 as long as they live, not the worth of one 
 farthing of that heap of gold shall come to 
 them. 
 
 * A crafty way to deceive : Minsheu. But see Mr. G. 
 Chalmers's Glossary to Sir D. Lyndsay'sWorks, vol. iii. p. 
 292. 
 
 * The expression " penny-worths" was common in thel7th 
 century — to denote, sometimes closeness and sometimes 
 liberality. In the latter sense Quarles uses it, speaking of 
 the Deity — " bountiful penny-worths at his hand." See his 
 Judgment and Mercy, &c. 
 
[ 230 ] [b. ii. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Education, Learning, Philosophical Opinions, 
 8cc. 
 
 1 hese and such like opinions have they 
 conceived, partly by education, [beingbrought 
 up in that common-wealth, whose laws and 
 customs be far different from those kinds of 
 folly,] and partly by good literature and 
 learning. For though there be not many in 
 every city, which be exempt and discharged 
 of all other labours, and appointed only to 
 learning — that is to say, such in whom, even 
 from their very childhood, they have per- 
 ceived a singular towardness, a fine wit, and 
 a mind apt to good learning — yet, all in their 
 childhood be instructed in learning. And 
 the better part of the people, both men and 
 women, throughout all their whole life, do 
 bestow in learning those spare hours, which 
 we said they have vacant from bodily labours. 
 They be taught learning in their own native 
 
ch.vii.] Education, Learning, &c. 231 
 
 tongue :* for it is both copious in words, 
 and also pleasant to the ear : and for the ut- 
 terance of a man's mind, very perfect and 
 sure. The most part of all that side of the 
 world useth the same language, saving that 
 among the Utopians it is finest and purest ; 
 and according to the diversity of the coun- 
 tries, it is diversly altered. Of all these 
 philosophers, whose names be here famous 
 in this part of the world to us known, before 
 our coming thither, not as much as the fame 
 of any of them was come among them. And 
 yet in music, logic, arithmetic, and geometry, 
 they have found out, in a manner, all that our 
 ancient philosophers have taught. But as 
 they in all things be almost equal to our old 
 and ancient clerks + — so our new logicians, in 
 subtle inventions, have far passed and gone 
 beyond them. 
 
 * A specimen of the Utopian language is given at the 
 end of the volume. In the editio princeps the characters 
 of the language are given. 
 
 f " Clerk" was the common term for a well informed 
 person, and is the contraction of " clericus," a clergyman 
 — most situations of talent or trust being formerly filled 
 by the clergy. See Blackstone's Com. vol. i. Introd. 
 
232 Education, Learning, [b. ii. 
 
 For they have not devised one of all those 
 rules of restrictions, amplifications, very wit- 
 tily invented in the small logicals* which 
 here our children in every place do learn. 
 Furthermore, they were never yet able to 
 find out the second inventions: insomuch 
 that none of them could ever see man him- 
 
 * More here ridicules the absurd system of education 
 adopted in his own days ; especially that part of it which 
 related to logics and metaphysics. " As the language of 
 the philosophers of Greece and Rome came to be better 
 understood, and their works more generally perused, the 
 barbarous jargon, unintelligible subtleties, endless distinc- 
 tions, and ponderous works of the schoolmen, came to be 
 neglected and despised. The commissioners who were ap- 
 pointed to visit the University of Oxford, A. D. 1535, 
 (seventeen years after More's Utopia was published), wrote 
 thus to the Lord Cromwell : ** We have set Dunce 
 [Duns Scotus] in Bocardo, and have utterly banished him 
 Oxford for ever, with all his blind glosses ; and he is now 
 made a common servant to every man, fast nailed up upon 
 posts in all common houses of easment. The second 
 time we came to New College, after we had declared your 
 injunctions, we found all the great quadrate court full of 
 the leaves of Dunce, the wind blowing them into every 
 corner." See Henry's Hist, of Gr. Br. vol. xii. 209, where 
 Strype's Memorials, vol. i. 210; and Wood, lib. i. p. 26*0. 
 are quoted. 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions , &c. 233 
 
 self in common, as they call him, though he 
 be (as you know) bigger than ever was any 
 giant ; yea, and pointed to of us even with 
 our finger. But they be, in the course of 
 the stars, and the movings of the heavenly 
 spheres, very expert and cunning. They 
 have also wittily excogitated and devised in- 
 struments of divers fashions ; wherein is 
 exactly comprehended and contained the 
 movings and situations of the sun, the moon, 
 and of ail the other stars, which appear in 
 their horizon. But as for the amities and 
 dissentions of the planets, and all that de- 
 ceitful divination * of the stars, they never 
 as much as dreamed thereof. Rains, winds, 
 and other courses of tempests, they know 
 
 * Astrology is here censured. How much it was the 
 favourite study of our ancestors in the l6th century, 
 may be seen from the hundreds of black-letter volumes 
 which were published upon the subject. Bishop Hall has 
 severely lashed it in his Satires— 
 
 " Some doting gossip 'mongst theChaldee wives 
 Did to the credulous world thee first derive ; 
 And Superstition nurs'd thee ever sence, 
 And publisht in profounder art's defence." 
 
 Virgidemiarum, b. n. sat. vii. 
 h h 
 
534 Education, Learning, [b. ii. 
 
 before by certain tokens, which they have 
 learned by long use and observation. But 
 of the causes of all these things, and of the 
 ebbing and flowing, and saltnessof the sea; and 
 finally, of the original beginning, and nature 
 of heaven and of the world, they hold partly 
 the same opinions that our old philosophers 
 hold ; and partly, as our philosophers vary 
 among themselves, so they also, while they 
 bring new reasons of things, do disagree 
 from all them, and yet among themselves 
 in all points they do not accord. 
 
 In that philosophy, which intreateth of 
 manners and virtue * their reasons and opi- 
 nions agree with ours. They dispute of the 
 good qualities of the soul, of the body, and 
 of fortune : and whether the name of good- 
 ness may be applied to all these, or only to 
 the endowments and gifts of the soul. They 
 reason of virtue and pleasure. But the 
 chief and principal question is, in what thing, 
 be it one or more, the felicity of man con- 
 sisteth. But in this point they seem almost too 
 much given and inclined to the opinion of 
 
 * Moral philosophy, as Burnet properly translates it. 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 235 
 
 them which defend pleasure: wherein they de- 
 termine either all, or the chiefest part, of man's 
 felicity to rest.* And (which is more to be 
 marvelled at) the defence of this so dainty 
 and delicate an opinion, they fetch even from 
 their grave, sharp, bitter, and rigorous re- 
 ligion. For they never dispute of felicity 
 or blessedness, but they join unto the reasons 
 of philosophy certain principles taken out of 
 religion: without the which, to the investi- 
 gation of true felicity, they think reason of 
 itself weak and unperfect. Those principles 
 be these and such like. That the soul is 
 
 * " The author takes the side of Epicurus in this 
 controversy, who considered happiness in itself and in its 
 formal state, and not according to the relation it has to 
 external beings ; and in this view he asserted that the 
 felicity of man consisted in pleasure. But pleasure was 
 a word of an ill sound : those who were already corrupt 
 in their morals, made an improper use of it ; which the 
 enemies of his sect taking advantage of, the name of an 
 Epicurean became obnoxious . But this was accidental 
 to the doctrine ; and the author has illustrated it in the 
 following pages, consonantly to our religion, and in a 
 manner which does honour to the philosopher who pro- 
 mulged it." Warner. 
 
236 Education, Learning, [b.ii. 
 
 immortal ; and by the bountiful goodness of 
 God, ordained to felicity; that to our virtues 
 and good deeds, rewards be appointed after 
 this life ; and to our evil deeds, punishments. 
 Though these be pertaining to religion, yet 
 they think it meet that they should be be- 
 lieved and granted by proofs of reason. But 
 if these principles were condemned and dis- 
 anulled, then, without any delay, they pro- 
 nounce no man to be so foolish which would 
 not do all his diligence and endeavour to 
 obtain pleasure, be it right or wrong; only 
 avoiding this inconvenience — that the less 
 pleasure should not be a let or hindrance to 
 the bigger : or that he laboured not for that 
 pleasure, which would bring after it displea- 
 sure, grief, and sorrow. 
 
 For they judge it extreme madness to 
 follow sharp and painful virtue, and not 
 only to banish the pleasure of life, but also 
 willingly to suffer grief, without any hope 
 of profit thereof ensuing. For what profit 
 can there be, if a man, when he hath passed 
 over all his life unpleasantly, that is to say, 
 miserably, shall have no reward after his 
 
ch.vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 237 
 
 death ? But now, Sir, they think not felicity 
 to rest in all pleasure, but only in that plea- 
 sure that is good and honest ; and that hereto, 
 as to perfect blessedness, our nature is allured 
 and drawn even of virtue — whereto only they 
 that be of the contrary opinion do attribute 
 felicity. For they define virtue to be life 
 ordered according to nature, and that we be 
 hereunto ordained of god: and that he doth 
 follow the course of nature, which, in desir- 
 ing and refusing things, is ruled by reason. 
 Furthermore, the reason doth chiefly and 
 principally kindle in men the love and ve- 
 neration of the divine majesty. Of whose 
 goodness it is that we be, and that we be in 
 possibility to attain felicity.* And that, se- 
 condarily, it both stirreth and provoketh us 
 to lead our life out+ of care, in joy and mirth ; 
 
 * " Cui debemus et quod sumus, et quod compotes esse 
 felicitatis possumus," '* To whom we owe both all that we 
 have, and all that we can ever hope for." Burnet and 
 Warner. 
 
 f ** Free from.'* The philosophical part of More's 
 Utopia is rather indifferently executed by our first English 
 translator : in this department, Burnet has an evident 
 superiority. 
 
238 Education, Learning, [b. n. 
 
 and also moveth us to help and further all 
 other, in respect of the society of nature, to 
 obtain and enjoy the same. For there was 
 never man so earnest and painful a follower 
 of virtue and hater of pleasure, that would 
 so enjoin your labours, watchings, and fast- 
 ings, but he would also exhort you to ease, 
 lighten, relieve to the utmost of your power, 
 the lack and misery of others ; praising the 
 same as a deed of humanity and pity. Then 
 if it be a point of humanity, for man to bring 
 health and comfort to man, and specially 
 (which is a virtue most peculiarly belonging 
 to man) to mitigate and assuage the grief of 
 others, and by taking from them the sorrow 
 and heaviness of life to restore them to joy, 
 that is to say to pleasure — may it not then 
 be said, that nature doth provoke every man 
 to do the same to himself? For a joyful life, 
 that is to say, a pleasant life, is either evil — 
 and if it be so, then thou shouldst not only 
 help no man thereto, but rather as much as 
 in thee lieth, withdraw all men from it, as noi- 
 some and hurtful — or else, if thou not only 
 must, but also of duty art bound to procure 
 
c ii . v 1 1 .] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 2 S 9 
 
 it to others — why not chiefly to thyself? 
 to whom thou art bound to shew as much fa- 
 vour and gentleness as to other ! For when 
 nature biddeth thee to be good and gentle to 
 other, she commandeth thee not to be cruel 
 and ungentle to thyself. Therefore even 
 very nature (say they) prescribeth to us a 
 joyful life, that is to say, pleasure, as the 
 end of all our operations. And they define 
 virtue to be life ordered according to the 
 prescript of nature. But in that, that nature 
 doth allure and provoke men, one to help 
 another to live merrily,* (which surely she 
 
 * If ever there was a decided foe to Melancholy, it was 
 the learned and witty author of this romance of Utopia; 
 who seems to have agreed with Bullein, that — "Melan- 
 choly, that cold, dry, wretched saturnine humor creepeth 
 in with a leane, pale, or swartysh colour, which reigneth 
 upon solitarye, carefull-musyng men : whych humour, at 
 length, breedeth and bryngeth forth a terrible chylde 
 called the /ever quartern the same, if he bee not corrected 
 and banished away, wyll be hys father's death." Bulwarke 
 of Defence against all Sicknesse, &C.1579, pt« iv. fol. 4. b. 
 
 I subjoin a curious passage from " Bright's Treatise 
 of Melancholy" first published in 1586, in which the 
 re ader, if he enjoys not the " merry life" recommended 
 
240 Education, Learning, [b. n. 
 
 doth not without a good cause : for no man 
 is far above the lot of man's state, or condi- 
 
 by our author, but is afflicted with hypocondriacal disor- 
 ders, may probably discover something to cure him of his 
 malady. " If (says Dr. Bright) the melancholic man be of 
 ability, the house would (should) not want ornament of 
 picture, of gay and fresh colors; in such matter as shall 
 be most pleasant and delighful. And of all ornaments of 
 house and home, a pleasant garden, and hortyeard (or- 
 chard), with a lively spring, is above all domesticall delight, 
 and meetest for the melancholy heart and brayne. His 
 apparel would (should) be decent and comely ; and, as 
 the purse would give leave, somewhat, for the time, sump- 
 tuous ; as also the whole household furniture belonging 
 unto him; of color light, or changeable; except the place 
 and gravity of the melancholy person refuseth colors. 
 And, heere, no kind of ornament would (should) be omit- 
 ted which might entice the senses to delight, and allure 
 the enclosed spirits to solace themselves. (As to) the out- 
 ward parts of their bodies, here, brouches, chains, and 
 rings may have good use ; with such like ornament of 
 jewel, as agreeth with the ability and calling of the me- 
 lancholicke ; and those not only curious and precious by 
 art, but especially garnished with precious stones, that are 
 said to have virtue against vain feares and basenesse of 
 courage. Of which sort are these following : the Carbun- 
 cle, for virtue the chief of stones : the Calcedonie, of power 
 to put away feare and heavinesse of heart ; a clearer of 
 
gh. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 241 
 
 don, that nature doth cark and care for him 
 only, which equally favoureth all that be 
 comprehended under the communion of one 
 shape, form and fashion) verily she com- 
 
 • the spirits, and chaser away of fantasticall melancholy 
 visions : the Ruble, available against fearfull dreames : the 
 Jacint, a great cheerer of the heart, and procurer of favor ; 
 the Turcoyse, a comforter of the spirits : the Chrysophars, 
 of like virtue : the Corneole, a mitigater of anger, and meet 
 for melancholickes of the furious sort. Stones of baser sort, 
 and yet of singular vertue, are the Chalydonie, or Swallow- 
 stone, found in the mawes of young swallowes — against mad- 
 nesse : and the Alectorian, or Cockes stone, of a waterie 
 color, found in the maw of a cocke, or capon, after hee bee 
 nine years olde — above all commended for giving strength 
 and courage ! and wherewith (as it is reported) the famous 
 Milo-Critonien always stood invincible. Thus have you the 
 whole order of the melancholy dyet." p. 320. 1. ed. 1613. 
 The ingenious Burton, in his " Anatomy of Melancholy," 
 has enlarged upon these hints of Bright ; although he does 
 not acknowledge his obligations to him. Whoever will be at 
 the trouble of consulting Part ii. Sect. 4. Memb. 1. Sub- 
 sect 4, of the last folio edition of Burton, floYo*] will 
 see how it varies from the first folio of 16*24 ; and will, 
 in consequence, regret the omission of the notice of 
 these variations in the octavo editions of Burton recently 
 published. These latter might have been the most amusing 
 octavo variorum editions of an English classic extant. 
 i i 
 
242 Education, Learning, [b. ii. 
 
 mandeth thee to use diligent circumspec- 
 tion, that thou do not seek for thine own 
 commodity, that which may procure others 
 incommodity-f Wherefore their opinion is, 
 that not only covenants and bargains made 
 among private men, ought to be well and 
 faithfully followed, observed, and kept, but 
 also common laws; which either a good prince 
 hath justly published, or else the people, 
 neither oppressed with tyranny, neither de- 
 ceived by fraud and guile, hath by their 
 common consent constituted and ratified ; 
 concerning the partition of the commodity 
 of life, that is to say, the matter of pleasure. 
 These laws not offended, it is wisdom that 
 thou look to thine own wealth. And to do the 
 same for the common-wealth is no less than 
 
 * The foregoing passage, obscurely expressed by Robin- 
 son, is thus forcibly given in the French translation, " En 
 effet, aucun individu n'est tellement au-dessus du sort de 
 n6tre espece, que la nature n'ait soin que de lui : comme 
 elle nous produit tous de la merae figure, elle nous entre- 
 tient aussi sans distinction, et sans partialite. Or, ce que 
 cette meme nature vous ordonne le plus expressement, c'est 
 de ne pas tant vous appliquer a v6tre bonheur, que vous 
 procuriez le malheur des autres.'' p. IS3. 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, <&c. 243 
 
 thy duty, if thou bearest any reverent love, 
 or any natural zeal and affection, to thy 
 native country. But to go about to let ano- 
 ther man of his pleasure, while thou pro- 
 curest thine own, that is open wrong. Con- 
 trarywise, to withdraw something from thy- 
 self to give to other — that is a point of huma- 
 nity and gentleness, which never taketh 
 away so much commodity, as it bringeth 
 again. For it is recompensed with the 
 return of benefits ; and the conscience of the 
 good deed, with the remembrance of the 
 thankful love and benevolence of them to 
 whom thou hast done it, doth bring more 
 pleasure to thy mind, than that which thou 
 hast withholden from thyself could have 
 brought to thy body. Finally (which to a 
 godly disposed and a religious mind is easy 
 to be persuaded), God recompenseth the 
 gift of a short and small pleasure with great 
 and everlasting joy.* 
 
 * " Brevis et exiguae voluptatis vicem, ingentiacnunquam 
 interiturogaudio rependit Deus." "And they are persuaded 
 that God will make up the loss of those small pleasures. 
 
244 Education, Learning, [b. ii. 
 
 Therefore the matter diligently weighed 
 and considered, thus they think that all our 
 actions, and in them the virtues themselves, 
 be referred at the last to pleasure, as their 
 end and felicity. Pleasure, they call every 
 motion and state of the body or mind, 
 wherein man hath naturally delectation. 
 Appetite they join to nature, and that not 
 without a good cause. For like as, not only 
 the senses, but also right reason coveteth what- 
 soever is naturally pleasant, so that it may 
 be gotten without wrong or injury, not let- 
 ting or debarring a greater pleasure, nor 
 causing painful labour — even so those things 
 that men, by vain imagination do fain against 
 nature to be pleasant (as though it lay in 
 their power to change the things, as they do 
 the names of things) all such pleasures they 
 believe to be of so small help and further- 
 ance to felicity, that they count them a great 
 let and hindrance. Because, that, in whom 
 they have once taken place, all his mind 
 they possess with a false opinion of pleasure. 
 
 with a vast and endless joy." So Burnet and Warner; but 
 pot so faithful nor elegant as the above. 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 245 
 
 So that there is no place left for true and 
 natural delectations. 
 
 For there be many things, which of their 
 own nature contain no pleasantness ; yea the 
 most part of them much grief and sorrow : 
 and yet, through the perverse and malicious 
 flickering enticements of lewd and unhonest 
 desires, they be taken not only for special 
 and sovereign pleasures, but also be counted 
 among the chief causes of life. In this coun- 
 terfeit kind of pleasure, they put them that 
 I spake of before ; which the better gowns 
 they have on, the better men they think 
 themselves. In the which thing, they do 
 twice err ; for they be no less deceived in 
 that they think their gown the better, than 
 they be in that they think themselves the 
 better. 
 
 For if you consider the profitable use of 
 the garment, why should wool of a finer 
 spun thread be thought better than the wool 
 of a coarse spun thread ? Yet they, as 
 though the one did pass the other by nature, 
 and not by their mistaking, vaunt them- 
 selves, and think the price of their own per- 
 
246 Education, Learning, [b. ii. 
 
 sons thereby greatly increased. And there- 
 fore the honour, which in a coarse gown 
 they durst not have looked for, they require, 
 as it were of duty, for their finer gown's 
 sake ! And if they be passed without re- 
 verence, they take it displeasantly and dis- 
 dainfully ! And again, is it not alike mad- 
 ness to take a pride in vain and unprofitable 
 honours ? For what natural or true pleasure 
 dost thou take of another man's bare head, 
 or bowed knees ? will this ease the pain of 
 thy knees, or remedy the phrensy of thy 
 head ? In this image of counterfeit pleasure, 
 they be of marvellous madness, which for 
 the opinion of nobility, rejoice much in their 
 own conceit.* Because it was their fortune 
 
 * More literally practised what he preached. No man 
 ever had a deeper-rooted contempt of those honours 
 attached to nobility which consist in mere outward form, 
 pomp, and ceremony. " He exercised actes of humilitie 
 that he made most worldlie men to wonder at him. On 
 the Sunnedaies even, when he was Lord Chancellour, he 
 wore a surplice, and soung with the singers at the high 
 masse and matins in his parish church at Chelsey ; which 
 the Duke of Norfolk on a time finding, sayd — " God 
 bodie, God bodie, my Lord Chancellour a parish Clarke ! 
 
oh. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 247 
 
 to come of such ancestors, whose stock of 
 long time had been counted rich, (for now 
 nobility is nothing else,) specially rich in 
 lands. And though their ancestors left them 
 not one foot of land, or else they themselves 
 have p — d it against the walls, yet they 
 think themselves not the less noble there- 
 fore of one hair ! In this number also 
 they count them that take pleasure and 
 delight (as I said) in gems and precious 
 stones, and think themselves almost gods, if 
 they chance to get an excellent one, specially 
 of that kind which, in that time, of their own 
 countrymen, is had in highest estimation. 
 
 For one kind of stone keepeth not his 
 price still in all countries, and at all times. 
 Nor they buy them not, but taken out of the 
 gold, and bar ; no, nor so neither, until they 
 have made the seller to swear that he will 
 warrant and assure it to be a true stone and 
 no counterfeit gem. Such care they take 
 
 you disgrace the king, and your office !" " Nay, sayd Sir 
 Thomas, smiling" — " Your Grace may not thinke I dis- 
 honour my prince in my dutiefulnesse to hit Lord and 
 ours /"— Gr. Grandson's Life, 8vo. edit. p. 19. 
 
24 S Education, Learning, [b. ii. 
 
 lest a counterfeit stone should deceive their 
 eyes instead of v a right stone. But why 
 shouldest thou not take even as much plea- 
 sure in beholding a counterfeit stone, which 
 thine eyes cannot discern from a right stone ? 
 They should both be of like value to thee, 
 even as to a blind man. 
 
 What shall I say of them that keep super- 
 fluous riches, to take delectation only in the 
 beholding, and not in the use or occupying 
 thereof? Do they take true pleasure, or else 
 be they deceived with false pleasure ? Or 
 of them that be in a contrary vice — hiding 
 the gold which they shall neither occcupy, 
 nor peradventure never see him more : and 
 whilst they take care lest they shall lose, do 
 lose it indeed ! For what is it else, when 
 they hide it in the ground, taking it both 
 from their own use, and perchance from all 
 other men's also ? And yet thou, when thou 
 hast hid thy treasure, as one out of all 
 care, hopest for joy — the which treasure, if 
 it should chance to be stolen, and thou, ig- 
 norant of the theft, shouldst die ten years 
 after : all that ten years thou livedst, after thy 
 money was stolen, what matter was it to 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 249 
 
 thee, whether it had been taken away, or else 
 safe as thou left it ? Truly both ways like 
 profit came to thee ! 
 
 To these so foolish pleasures they join 
 Dicers, whose madness they know by hearsay 
 and not by use. Hunters also and Hawkers.* 
 
 * Hawking was the favourite amusement of our English 
 ancestors till the close of the 17th century — it was revived 
 a little in the eighteenth, and is still occasionally practised 
 by gentlemen in the north of England. [See an amusing 
 account of this diversion in Mr. C. Dibdin's Tour through 
 England and Scotland, 4to. 2 vols. 1802.] Its antiquity is 
 remote : the royal falconer was an officer of high dignity in 
 the Grecian court of Constantinople, at an early period : and 
 the Emperor Andronicus Palagologus, the younger, kept 
 more than one thousand and four hundred hawks, with 
 almost as many men to take care of them. Julius Firmicus, 
 who wrote about the year 355, is the first Latin author who 
 mentions hawking, or has even used the word [Falco\. A 
 charter of Kenulf, king of the Mercians, granted to the 
 abbey of Abingdon, and dated 821, prohibits all persons 
 carrying hawks or falcons, to trespass on the lands of the 
 monks. See Dugd. Monast. Anglicanum, vol. i. 100. So 
 sacred was this bird esteemed, that it was forbidden in a 
 code of Charlemagne's laws,* for any one to give his hawk 
 or his sword as part of his ransom. 
 
 * The extreme jealousy with which our legislature 
 watched any infraction of the laws relating to hawking and 
 
 * k 
 
250 Education, Learnings [b. II. 
 
 For what pleasure is there (say they) in 
 casting the dice upon a table — which thou 
 
 In the feudal times, and long afterwards, no gentleman 
 appeared on horseback [unless going to battle] without an 
 hawk on his jist : this was always considered a mark of 
 great nobility.* In the tapestry of the Norman Conquest, 
 Harold is exhibited on horseback with a hawk on his fist, 
 and his dogs going before him— on an embassy from King 
 Edward the Confessor to William Duke of Normandy. In 
 the year 1337, the bishop of Ely excommunicated certain 
 persons for stealing a hawk, sitting on her perch, in the 
 cloisters of the abbey of Bermondsey in Southwark. Con- 
 
 falconry, may be seen in the confirmatiou of the Forest 
 Laws by Hen. III. also by the 34th of Edw. III. and the 
 11th. of Hen. VII. from which the reader will find some 
 amusing extracts by Strutt; without being under the neces- 
 sity of consulting the formidable volumes of Ruffhead or 
 Runnington. 
 
 It would seem, from the first mentioned authority, that 
 Henry the Eighth had liked to have paid dear for his pas- 
 sion for hawking — " for" (says Hall) " on a time, as the 
 kynge following his hauke (on foot) he attempted to leap 
 over a ditche, with a pole, and the pole brake : so that if one 
 Edmond Mody, a foteman, had not lept into the water, and 
 lift up his hede, which was fast in the clay, he had been 
 drowned : but God of his goodness preserved him." — 
 Manners and Customs of the English, vol. ii. 90. — iii. 124, 
 125. 
 
 •*' An hawk he esteems the true burden ofnobilitie, and 
 is exceeding ambitious to seem delighted in the sport, and 
 to have his fist glov'd with his jesses." See Micro-cos- 
 mographie, edit. 1664. p. 97. 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions ,&c. 251 
 
 hast done so often, that if there were any 
 pleasure in it, yet the oft use might make 
 thee weary thereof? Or what delight can 
 
 suit the amusing notes of T. Warton, in h s History of 
 English Poetry, vol. i. l66. vol. ii. 221. 
 
 The favourite works upon Falconry, in the l6th and 
 17th centuries, were the Treatises by Tuberville and 
 Latham : but I cannot discover in the volumes of Sir 
 J. Hawkins, or Dr.Burney— or in the ancient ballads of 
 Doddesley, Percy, Evans, and Ritson, [8vo. 1783*, 1790, 
 179 1 *] any Song upon this popular subject. The only one 
 isprobably by Thomas Forde, which, however is not to be 
 found in the collection of this poet's writings. See Mr. 
 Ford's (of Manchester) curious catalogue of books, 8vo. 
 1807. No. 776. The Huntsman, and the Angler, have 
 each received numerous panegyrical strains — but the plea- 
 sures of falconry seem to have been celebrated only in 
 prose. What poets, however, have neglected, artists have 
 embracsd with avidity ; and how well calculated the sub- 
 ject was for the canvas, the unrivalled pencil of Wou- 
 vermans has sufficiently shewn. 
 
 * This is an elegant publication in three crown 8vo. vo- 
 lumes ; decorated with vignettes, and illustrated with 
 musical notes — and it has the recommendation of excluding 
 " every composition, however celebrated or however ex- 
 cellent, of which the slightest expression, or the most dis- 
 tant allusion, could have tinged the cheek of delicacy, or 
 offended the purity of the chastest ear." Pref. p. v. 
 si sic omnia ! All the above publications of Ritson are 
 daily becoming rare. 
 
252 Education, Learning, [b. ii. 
 
 there be, and not rather displeasure, in 
 hearing the barking and howling of dogs ? 
 Or what greater pleasure is there to be felt 
 when a dog followeth an hare, than when a 
 dog followeth a dog P For one thing is done 
 in both, that is to say, running — if thou 
 hast pleasure therein ? ! But if the hope of 
 slaughter, and the expectation of tearing 
 in pieces the beast, doth please thee, thou 
 shouldest rather be moved with pity to see 
 a silly innocent hare murdered of a dog : 
 the weak of the stronger ; the fearful of the 
 fierce ; the innocent of the cruel and unmer- 
 ciful. Therefore all this exercise of hunting, 
 as a thing unworthy to be used of freemen, 
 the Utopians have rejected to their butchers ; 
 to the which craft (as we said before) they 
 appoint their bondmen. For they count 
 hunting the lowest, the vilest, and most ab- 
 ject part of butchery ; and the other parts 
 of it more profitable and more honest : as 
 bringing much commodity, in that they kill 
 beasts only for necessity. 
 
 Whereas the hunter seeketh nothing but 
 pleasure of the silly and woeful beast's 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 253 
 
 slaughter and murder. The which pleasure 
 in beholding death, they think doth rise in 
 the very beasts ; either of a cruel affection of 
 mind, or else to be changed in continuance 
 of time into cruelty,* by long use of so cruel 
 a pleasure. These, therefore, and all such 
 like, which be innumerable, though the 
 common sort of people doth take them 
 for pleasures, yet they, seeing there is no 
 natural pleasantness in them, do plainly de- 
 termine them to have no affinity with true 
 and right pleasure. For as touching that 
 they do commonly move the sense with de- 
 lectation (which seemeth to be a work of 
 pleasure) this doth nothing diminish their 
 opinion. For not the nature of the thing,, 
 but their perverse and lewd custom is the 
 cause hereof. Which causeth them to accept 
 bitter or sower things for sweet things. Even 
 as women with child in their vitiate and 
 corrupt taste, think pitch and tallow sweeter 
 than honey. Howbeit, no man's judgment 
 
 * Our author means that the dogs, from the habit of kill- 
 ing what they pursue, contract a love of cruelty whi«h 
 sometimes may not be natural to them. 
 
254 Education^ Learnings [b. ii. 
 
 depraved and corrupt, either by sickness, or 
 by custom, can change the natuie of plea- 
 sure, more than it can do the nature of other 
 things. 
 
 They make divers kinds of pleasures. For 
 some they attribute to the soul, and some to 
 the body. To the soul they give intelligence, 
 and that delectation that cometh of the con- 
 templation of truth. Hereunto is joined the 
 pleasant remembrance of the good life past.* 
 The pleasure of the body they divide into two 
 parts. The first is, when delectation is sen- 
 sibly felt and perceived, which many times 
 chanceth by the renewing and refreshing of 
 those parts which our natural heat drieth 
 up. This cometh by meat and drink. And 
 sometimes while those things be expulsed 
 and voided, whereof is in the body over great 
 abundance. This pleasure is felt when we 
 do our natural easement; or when we be doing 
 the act of generation ; or when the itching 
 
 * All the old translators had omitted the concluding 
 part of the sentence — " et spes non dubia futuri boni." — 
 Burnet properly translates it — " and the assured hopes 
 of a future happiness." 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 255 
 
 of any part is eased with rubbing; or scratch- 
 ing. Sometimes pleasure ariseth, exhibiting 
 to either member nothing that it desireth, 
 nor taking from it any pain that it feeleth ; 
 which nevertheless tickleth and moveth our 
 senses with a certain secret efficacy, and with 
 a manifest motion, turneth them to it: as 
 is that which cometh of music. The second 
 part of bodily pleasure, they say, is that 
 which consisteth and resteth in the quiet 
 and upright state of the body. And that 
 truly is every man's own proper health, in- 
 termingled and disturbed with no grief. For 
 this, if they be not letted nor assaulted with 
 grief, is delectable of itself, though it be 
 moved with no external or outward pleasure. 
 For though it be not so plain and manifest 
 to the sense as the * greedy lust of eating 
 and drinking, yet nevertheless, many take it 
 for the chiefest pleasure. All the Utopians 
 grant it to be a right sovereign pleasure ; and 
 as you would say, the foundation and ground 
 
 * The old translation is here very powerful. " Tumida 
 ilia edendi bibendique libido," says More — Burnet and 
 Warner have omitted this passage. 
 
256 Education, Learning, [b. ii. 
 
 of all pleasures, as which even alone is 
 able to make the state and condition of life 
 delectable and pleasant. And it being once 
 taken away, there is no place left for any 
 pleasure. For to be without grief, not 
 having health, that they call insensibility, 
 and not pleasure. 
 
 The Utopians have long ago rejected and 
 condemned the opinion of them, which said, 
 that steadfast and quiet health (for this ques- 
 tion also hath been diligently debated among 
 them) ought not therefore to be counted 
 a pleasure; because they say it cannot be pre- 
 sently and sensibly perceived and felt by 
 some outward motion. But of the contrary 
 part, now they agree almost all in this, that 
 
 HEALTH IS A MOST SOVEREIGN PLEASURE. 
 
 For seeing that in sickness (say they) is 
 grief, which is a mortal enemy to pleasure, 
 even as sickness is to health, why should not 
 then pleasure be in the quietness of health ? 
 For they say it maketh nothing to this mat- 
 ter, whether you say that sickness is a grief, 
 or that in sickness is grief — for all cometh to 
 one .purpose. 
 
oh. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 257 
 
 For whether health be a pleasure itself, or 
 a necessary cause of pleasure, as fire is of 
 heat, truly both ways it followeth that they 
 cannot be without pleasure that be in per- 
 fect health. Furthermore, whilst we eat 
 (say they), then health, which began to be 
 appaired, * fighteth by the help of food 
 against hunger. In the which fight, whilst 
 health by little and little getteth the upper 
 hand, that same proceeding, and (as we 
 would say) that onwardness to the wonted 
 strength, ministereth that pleasure whereby 
 we be so refreshed. Health therefore, which 
 in the conflict is joyful, shall it not be merry 
 when it hath gotten the victory ? But as 
 it hath recovered the pristinate strength, 
 which thing only in all the sight it coveted, 
 shall it incontinent be astonished ? Nor shall 
 it not know nor embrace its own worth and 
 goodness ? For where it is said health can- 
 not be felt, this they think is nothing true. 
 For what man waking, say they, feeleth not 
 himself in health, but he that is not? Is 
 there any man so possessed with stonish 
 
 * For " impaired :" the expression is used by Chaucer. 
 
 l! 
 
258 Education, Learning, [b. ii. 
 
 insensibility, or with lethargy, that is to say, 
 the sleeping sickness, that he will not grant 
 health to be acceptable to him, and delectable? 
 But what other thing is delectation than that 
 which, by another name, is called pleasure ? 
 They embrace chiefly the pleasures of the 
 mind : for them they count the chiefest and 
 most principle of all. The chief part of them 
 they think doth come of the exercise of vir- 
 tue, and conscience of good life. Of these 
 pleasures that the body ministereth, they 
 give the pre-eminence to health. For the 
 delight of eating and drinking, and what- 
 soever hath any like pleasantness, they de- 
 termine to be pleasures much to be desired, 
 but no otherways than for health's sake. 
 For such things of their own proper nature 
 be not so pleasant, but in that they resist 
 sickness privily stealing on: therefore, like 
 as it is a wise man's part rather to avoid 
 sickness, than to wish for medicines, and 
 rather to drive away and put to flight care- 
 ful griefs, than to call for comfort — so it is 
 much better not to need this kind of plea- 
 sure, than thereby to be eased of the contrary 
 
ch.vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 259 
 
 grief. The which kind of pleasure, if any 
 man take for his felicity, that man must 
 needs grant that then he shall be in most 
 felicity, if he live that life which is led in 
 continual hunger, thirst, itching, eating 
 * drinking, scratching, and rubbing! The 
 which life, how not only foul and unhonest, 
 but also how miserable and wretched it is, 
 who perceiveth not? These doubtless be 
 the basest pleasures of all, as unpure and 
 unperfect. For they never come but ac- 
 companied with their contrary griefs. As 
 with the pleasure of eating, is joined hunger, 
 and that after no very equal sort : for of 
 
 * " God Almighty, {says the learned Bullein) hath or- 
 dayned wine for the great comfort of mankind, to be taken 
 moderately ; but to be drunke with excesse, it is unwhol- 
 some and is poyson most venemous : it relaxeth the 
 sinewes, bryngeth palsy, fallyng sicknesse : in olde persons, 
 hot fevers, frensies, fighting, lechery; and a consuming of 
 the lyver to the cholericke : and, generally there is no 
 credence to be given to drunkardes although they be 
 mighty men. It maketh men lyke to monster s, with coun- 
 tenaunce lyke to burning coales : it dishonoureth noble- 
 men, and beggereth poore men," &c. Bulwarke of Defence, 
 pt. l.fol.ii. 
 
$60 Education, Learning, b. ii. 
 
 these two, the grief is both the more vehe 
 ment and also of longer continuance. For 
 it beginneth before the pleasure, and endeth 
 not until the pleasure die with it. Where- 
 fore such pleasures they think not greatly 
 to be set by, but in that they be necessary. 
 Howbeit, they have delight also in these, 
 and thankfully knowledge the tender love of 
 mother nature, which, with most pleasant de- 
 lectation, allureth her children to them; to the 
 necessary use whereof, they must from time 
 to time continually be forced and driven. For 
 how wretched and miserable should our life 
 be, if these daily griefs of hunger and thirst 
 could not be driven away, but with bitter 
 potions, and sour medicines, as the other 
 diseases be, wherewith we be seldomer trou- 
 bled? But beauty, strength, nimbleness, 
 these as peculiar and pleasant gifts of nature, 
 they make much of. But those pleasures that 
 be received by the ears, the eyes, and the nose, 
 which nature willeth to be proper and pecu- 
 liar to man (for no other living creature doth 
 behold the fairness and the beauty of the 
 world, or is moved with any respect of 
 
CH.TH.] PfMmwfkuid Ophdoms. &c. 26 1 
 
 farouTs, bat only for the drrersity of 1 
 perceireth the concordant and 
 istanrcs of sounds and tones) 
 1 say, they accept and allow as 
 pleasant rejoicings of life. Bat in all 
 things this cantef* they use, that a less plea- 
 sore hinder not a bigger ; and that the plea- 
 sore be no cause of displeasure, which they 
 think to follow of necessity, if the pleasure be 
 wnhonrw Bat yet to despise the 1 i—i Misni n 
 of beauty, to waste the bodily strength, to 
 torn nimbleness onto slothness, to consnsne 
 and make feeble the body with ******%, to 
 do injury to health, and to reject the pleasant 
 motions of natnre— unless a man neglect these 
 umimodilii i t nhili he doth with a ferment aeal 
 procure the wealth of others, or the 
 profit — for the which pleasure forborne, 
 in hope of a greater pleasure at God's 
 
262 Education, Learning, [b. u. 
 
 — else for a vain shadow of virtue, for the wealth 
 and profit of no man, to punish himself, or to 
 the intent he may be able courageously to 
 suffer adversity, which perchance shall never 
 
 tame his unbrideled concupiscence by wonderfull workes of 
 mortification. Besides wearing a sharp shirt of hayre 
 next his skin [see page 80, ante], he used also much 
 fasting and watching, lying often either upon the bare 
 ground, or upon some bench, or laying some log under his 
 head, allotting himselfe but foure or five howres in a night 
 at moste for his sleepe ; imagining with the holie Saints 
 of Christ's church, that his bodie was to be used like an 
 asse, with strokes and harde fare, least provender might 
 pricke it" &c. Gr. Grandson's Life, 4to. edit. p. 28. 
 
 To an Englishman of the present day, this appears a 
 severe species of penance and mortification, and barely 
 practicable : but it should be remembered that feather 
 beds and hair mattrasses were hardly known in More's time, 
 and that our good forefathers were contented with very 
 moderate fare in regard to the luxuries of the bed. " Our 
 fathers, yea, and we ourselves also (says Harrison), have 
 lien full oft upon straw palltts, or rough mats, covered 
 only with a sheet, under coverlets made of dags-wain or 
 hopkarlots [shreds, patched materials], and a good round 
 log under their heads, instead of a bolster or pillow. If 
 it were so that our fathers, or the good man of the house, 
 had, within^ seven years after his marriage, purchased a 
 mattrass or Jlock-bed t and thereto a sack of chaff" to rest 
 
c h . v 1 1 . ] Philosophical Opinions > &c. 26 3 
 
 come to him — this to do, they think it a point 
 of extreme madness, and a token of a man 
 cruelly minded towards himself, and unkind 
 towards nature, as one so disdaining to be in 
 her danger, that he renounceth and refuseth 
 all her benefits. This is their sentence and 
 opinion of virtue and pleasure.* And they 
 
 his head upon, he thought himself to be as well lodged as 
 the lord of the town ! that, peradventure, lay seldom in a 
 bed of down, or whole feathers." Prefixed to Holinshed's 
 Chronicles, p. 188. 
 
 * The whole of this is in a fine strain of thought and 
 expression; and although the translation of Robinson be 
 probably more defective in the philosophical parts of this 
 romance, yet is the above very beautifully and faithfully 
 composed. The advice which the pious and skilful Bullein 
 gives us, is in no respect inferior to More-'s. — Let us (says 
 he) see that " each of us doe walke in such callyng in this 
 lyfe, that we may be necessarye members, one unto ano- 
 ther, in the common wealth ; to profit each other, and 
 hurt nobody. To travaile for the fruites of the earth, or 
 any other riches, gotten by honest pollicy ; and after to 
 spend them accordingly. — By providing for ourselves 
 against the tyme of adversity. — To obey rulers, and pity 
 the poore ; to do as we would be done unto ; to despyse 
 a wicked life; and feare no kynde of trouble it shall 
 please God to lay upon us. This is the summe of Christen 
 religion, of an honest lyfe, and of a happy end." See his 
 Bulwarke, &c. pt. iv. fo. 30. 
 
264 Education, Learning, [b.ii. 
 
 believe that by man's reason none can be 
 found truer than this, unless any godlier be 
 inspired into man from heaven. Wherein 
 whether they believe well or no, neither the 
 time doth suffer us to discuss, neither is it 
 now necessary. For we have taken upon us 
 to shew and declare their lores and ordi- 
 nances, and not to defend them. But this 
 thing I believe verily, howsoever these de 
 crees be, that there is in no place of the 
 world, neither a more excellent people, nei- 
 ther a more flourishing common-wealth. 
 
 They be light and quick of body, full of 
 activity and nimbleness, and of more strength 
 than a man would judge them by their stature, 
 which for all that is not too low. And though 
 their soil be not very fruitful, nor their air 
 very wholesome, yet against the air, they so 
 defend them with temperate diet and so order 
 and husband their ground with diligent tra- 
 vail, that in no country is greater increase and 
 plenty of corn and cattle, nor men's bodies 
 of longer life, and subject or apt to fewer 
 diseases. There, therefore, a man may see 
 well and diligently exploited and furnished, 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 265 
 
 not only those things which husbandmen do 
 commonly in other countries, as by craft and 
 cunning to remedy the barrenness of the 
 ground — but also a whole wood by the hands 
 of the people plucked up by the roots in 
 one place, and set again in another place. 
 Wherein was had regard and consideration, 
 not of plenty, but of commodious carriage ; 
 that wood and timber might be nigher to the 
 sea, or the rivers, or the cities. For it is less 
 labour and business to carry grain far by land 
 than wood. The people be gentle, merry, 
 quick and fine witted,* delighting in quiet- 
 ness, and when need requireth, able to abide 
 and suffer much bodily labour. Else they 
 be not greatly desirous and fond of it: but in 
 the exercise and study of the mind, they be 
 never weary. 
 
 When they had heard me speak of the 
 Greek literature or learning (for in Latin there 
 was nothing that I thought they would 
 greatly allow, besides histories and poets) 
 
 * On the authority of Erasmus, we are told that Dean 
 Colet thought More '* the only wit in the island." See 
 Knight's Life of Colet, p. 39- 
 
 m m 
 
266 Education, Learning, [b. ii. 
 
 they made wonderful earnest and importunate 
 suit unto me, that I would teach and instruct 
 them in that tongue and learning. I began 
 therefore to read unto them at the first truly ; 
 more because I would not seem to refuse the 
 labour, than that I hoped that they would 
 any thing profit therein. But when I had 
 gone forward a little, I perceived incontinent 
 by their diligence, that my labour should 
 not be bestowed in vain. For they began so 
 easily to fashion their letters, so plainly to 
 pronounce the words, so quickly to learn 
 by heart, and so surely to rehearse the same, 
 that I marvelled at it; saving that the most 
 part of them were fine and chosen wits, and 
 of ripe age, picked out of the company of 
 learned men, which not only of their own 
 free and voluntary will, but also by the 
 commandment of the council, undertook to 
 learn this language. Therefore, in less than 
 three years space, there was nothing in the 
 Greek tongue that they lacked. 
 
 They were able to read good authors * 
 
 * More's fondness for books, and for the encouragement 
 of learning, was strikingly shewn in the Education of his 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 267 
 
 without any stay, if the book were not false. 
 This kind of learning, as I suppose, they 
 
 Children — perhaps no man ever enjoyed a more rational 
 yet polished domestic society. Of this domestic circle, 
 his daughter, Margaret, was deservedly the favourite ; 
 indeed, if we are to judge from the uniform evidence of 
 contemporary writers, the father had great reason to 
 love and admire such a daughter. — " This lady," says Mr. 
 Lewis, in his preface to More's Life by Rooper, p. 4, " had 
 all the advantages that could arise from great natural parts 
 and very fine learning : she was a perfect mistress of the 
 Greek and Latin tongues, and of all sorts of music, besides 
 her skill in arithmetic and other sciences. For thus we 
 are assured by a very learned friend of Sir Thomas, 
 that he took a great deal of care to have his children in- 
 structed in the liberal disciplines or sciences ; so that the 
 fine things said of her, and to her, by the greatest men of 
 that age and since, were more than compliments and words 
 of course. For a more particular account of her, see the 
 " Moriana," prefixed to the 1st vol. 
 
 M Fuit ejus domus," says Erasmus, " schola et gym- 
 nasium Christianas religionis." " The tutors of More's 
 children were John Clement, who was afterwards a Greek 
 professor at Oxford; William Gonellus, (or Gunnell), 
 afterwards distinguished at Cambridge ; Ricard Hertius ; 
 one Drus ; and one Nicholas" — says Stapleton. Vit. 
 Mori. 221, 2. More's letter to Gonellus, (or Gunnell) 
 concerning the education of his children, (which Staple- 
 ton has extracted, p. 224,) is full of curious information, 
 
268 Education, Learning, [b. ii. 
 
 took so much the sooner, because it is some- 
 what alliant to them : for I think that this 
 nation took their beginning of the Greeks, 
 because their speech, which in all other 
 points is not much unlike the Persian tongue, 
 
 and great tenderness of sentiment. Most of the learned 
 men of that day, Erasmus, Ludovicus Vives, and Grynaeus, 
 celebrated the school of More. 
 
 " Erasmus, from whom we derive these particulars, and 
 who was often an inmate of that delightful society, greatly 
 captivated with the easy manners, the animated conver- 
 sation, the extraordinary accomplishments of More's 
 daughters, could not help owning himself a complete con- 
 vert to More's sentiments of Female Education. Yet while 
 he admired their improvement, and shared in the pleasures 
 it diffused, he could not help remarking one day to his 
 friend how severe a calamity it would be, if, by any of 
 those fatalities to which the human race is liable, such ac- 
 complished beings, whom he had so painfully and success- 
 fully laboured to improve, should happen to be snatched 
 away ! " If they are to die," replied More, without hesi- 
 tating, " I would rather have them die well informed, than 
 ignorant." " This reply," continues Erasmus, " reminded 
 me of a saying of Phocion, whose wife, as he was about to 
 drink the poison according to his sentence, exclaimed, 
 " Ah ! my husband, you die innocent !" " And would 
 you, my wife," he rejoined, " rather have me die guilty ?"* 
 Macdiarmid, Lives of British Statesmen, p. 32. 
 * Erasm.Epist. 605. 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 269 
 
 keepeth divers signs and tokens of the 
 Greek language in the names of their cities, 
 and of their magistrates. They have of me 
 (for when 1 was determined to enter into my 
 fourth voyage, I cast into the ship, in the 
 stead of merchandise, a pretty fardle * of 
 books, because I intended tocome again rather 
 never than shortly), they have, 1 say, of me, 
 the most part of Plato's works, more of Aris- 
 totle's, also Theophrastus of plants, but in 
 divers places (which I am sorry for) unper- 
 fect. For, whilst they were a ship-board, a 
 marmoset -f chanced upon the book, as it was 
 negligently laid by, which wantonly playing 
 therewith, plucked out certain leaves and 
 tore them in pieces. Of them that have 
 
 * Bundle : " in consideration whereof, I have boldened 
 myselfe to lay this fardell on my weake shoulders," &c. 
 Theatre of the World, Boyastuau to the Reader, p. 11. 
 " A fardle of poesies" was a common expression in the 
 l6th century. 
 
 f A small monkey. It is not very improbable but 
 that something similar to what is mentioned above of 
 the " marmoset" was going forward under More's eye 
 at the time he was writing the passage : — for Eras- 
 mus says he was " fond of contemplating the figure, 
 
270 Education, Learning, [b. n. 
 
 written the grammar, they have only Las- 
 caris* For Theodorus I carried not with 
 me, nor never a dictionary, but Hesychius 
 and Dioscorides. They set great store by 
 Plutarch's books ; and they be delighted 
 with Lucians merry conceits and jests. Of 
 the poets they have Aristophanes, Homer, 
 Euripides and Sophocles in Aldus' small print. 
 Of the historians they have Thucydides^ 
 Herodotus, and Herodian. Also my com- 
 panion Tricius Apinatus carried with him 
 physic books, certain small works of Hippo- 
 crates, and Galen s Microtechne, the which 
 book they have in great estimation .4 for 
 
 dispositions, and affections of different kinds of animals 
 —and, for that purpose kept in his house not only all 
 kinds of birds, but also apes, foxes, ferrets, &c. &c." 
 See Epist. ad Huttenum, inter Lucubrat. Mori, p. 502. 
 Basil, edit. 1563. 
 
 * The Greek grammar of Lascaris was published in 
 a small 4to volume in 1476 : this book is remarkable for 
 being the first Greek volume ever printed. Of the best 
 editions of the remaining principal authors above men- 
 tioned, the reader will find some account in my " Intro- 
 duction, &c. to the Greek and Latin Classics," 3d edit. 
 1808. 
 
 t It is a little remarkable that More does not, either 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 211 
 
 though there be almost no nation under 
 heaven that hath less need of physic than 
 they, yet this notwithstanding, physic is 
 no where in greater honour : because they 
 count the knowledge of it among the godliest 
 and most profitable parts of philosophy. For 
 whilst they, by help of this philosophy, 
 search out the secret mysteries of nature, 
 they think themselves to receive thereby 
 not only wonderful great pleasure, but also 
 to obtain great thanks and favour of the 
 Author and maker thereof: whom they think, 
 according to the fashion of other artificers, 
 to have set forth the marvellous and gorgeous 
 frame of the world for man to behold. Whom 
 only he hath made of wit, and capacity to 
 
 directly, or indirectly, allude to the works of his coun- 
 trymen : probably he thought with Aschara, — that in them 
 nothing would be read " but books of fayned chevalrie, 
 wherein a man by reading should be led to none other 
 ende, but onely to manslaughter and baudrye," &c. 
 Prefatory address to the Toxophilus, p. 57. Bennett 
 edit. 
 
 In his Schoolmaster, Ascham is very sparing in his com- 
 mendation of English writers ; he notices, however, Cheke 
 and Surrey with deserved applause. 
 
272 Education, Learning, [b. n. 
 
 consider and understand the excellency of so 
 great a work* And therefore he bearetli 
 (say they) more good will and love to the 
 curious and diligent beholder, and viewer of 
 his work and marvellour at the same, than 
 he doth to him, which like a very brute 
 beast, without sense or reason, or as one 
 without sense or moving, hath no regard to 
 so great and wonderful a spectacle. 
 
 The wits therefore of the Utopians inured 
 and exercised in learning, be marvellous 
 quick in the invention of feats, helping any 
 thing to the advantage and wealth of life. 
 Howbeit, two feats they may thank us for. 
 That is the science of imprinting,* and the 
 
 * Most readers will recollect a similar, but greatly 
 superior, passage in Shakspeare's Hamlet — " from this 
 goodly frame, the earth," — to the conclusion of the speech. 
 Act. ii. sc. 2. Shaksp. edit. 1803. vol xviii. p. 127. 
 
 f The art of printing is supposed to have been discovered 
 by Guttemberg, at Strasburgh, about the year 1450: but 
 there is no direct evidence of any book being printed with 
 metal types before the Psalter of 1457- The attempts of 
 Guttemberg were confined only to wooden blocks. The 
 completest list of treatises upon printing will be found in 
 the Dictionnaire de Bibliologie by Peignot, vol. iii. p. 152. 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, &c. 273 
 
 craft of making paper.* And yet not only 
 us, but chiefly and principally themselves: 
 for when we shewed to them Aldus his 
 print in books of paper, and told them of 
 the stuff whereof paper is made, and of the 
 feat of graving letters, speaking somewhat 
 more than we could plainly declare, (for 
 there was none of us that knew perfectly 
 either the one or the other), they forthwith 
 very wittingly conjectured the thing. And 
 whereas before, they wrote only on skins, 
 upon barks of trees, and reeds, now they have 
 attempted to make paper, and to imprint 
 letters: and though at the first it proved not 
 all of the best, yet by often assaying the 
 same, they shortly got the feat of both ; 
 and have so brought the matter about, that 
 if they had copies of Greek authors, they 
 could lack no books. But now they have 
 
 f The art of making paper with linen rags is supposed 
 to have been discovered in the 11th century, though 
 Father Mabillon thinks it was in the 12th. Montfaucon 
 acknowledges that he has not been able to meet with a 
 single leaf of paper with a date anterior to the death of 
 St. Lewis in 1270. 
 
 N n 
 
574 Education, Learning, [b. ii. 
 
 no more than I rehearsed before, saving that 
 by printing of books, they have multiplied 
 and increased the same into many thousands 
 of copies. 
 
 Whosoever cometh thither to see the 
 land, being excellent in any gift of wit, or 
 through much and long journeying well 
 experienced and seen in the knowledge of 
 many countries, (for the which cause we 
 were very welcome to them) him they re- 
 ceive, and entertain wonderous gently and 
 lovingly : for they have delight to hear what 
 is done in every land. Howbeit, very few 
 merchant men come thither. For what 
 should they bring thither, unless it were 
 iron, or else gold and silver, which they 
 had rather carry home again? Also such 
 things as are to be carried out of their land, 
 they think it more wisdom to carry that 
 geer * forth themselves, than that other 
 
 * Stuffs, goods, riches'— ornaments, dress, habit, &c. See 
 Ash's Dictionary, where it is said to be put for " gear." — 
 This latter word is used by Spenser, Shakspeare, and 
 Milton — vide Johnson's Dictionary, where it is copiously 
 illustrated. In the original Latin there is no correspon- 
 dent word to u geer." 
 
ch. vii.] Philosophical Opinions, <&c. 275 
 
 should come thither to fetch it, to the intent 
 they may the better know the outlaods on 
 every side of them, and keep in use the feat 
 and knowledge of sailing. 
 
 * # * I take this opportunity of correcting an error, into 
 which an observation at p. 126 (note) may lead the reader, 
 respecting the not finding of English Works in the island of 
 Utopia. Hythloday, as a foreigner, could not be supposed 
 to know of any ; and the remote situation of the islanders 
 rendered a communication with this country barely pos- 
 sible. Moreover, we may conjecture that scarcely any 
 but Caxton's quaint publications were then known in Eng- 
 lish print. Chaucer was probably considered as a flower 
 of too young and delicate a growth to be transplanted in 
 the soil where Aristotle and Theophrastus grew. 
 
[ 276 ] [b. h. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Of Servants, Invalids, and of Marriage, &c. * 
 
 1 h e y neither make Bondmen of prisoners 
 taken in battle, unless it be in battle that 
 they fought themselves, nor of bondmen's 
 children ; nor, to be short, of any such as 
 they can get out of foreign countries, though 
 he were yet there a bondman. But either 
 such as among themselves for heinous of- 
 fences be punished with bondage, or else 
 such as in the cities of other lands for great 
 trespasses, be condemned to death. And 
 of this sort of bondmen they have most store. 
 For many of them they bring home some- 
 times : paying very little for them, yea 
 most commonly getting them for gramercy.t 
 These sorts of bondmen they keep not only 
 in continual work and labour, but also in 
 
 * This is one of the most singular and amusing chapters 
 of the whole work ; and admits of much more curious and 
 ample illustration than I have been able to bestow upon it. 
 
 f i. e. Grand merci, great thanks ; in the original it is 
 " gratis." 
 
ch. viii.] Of Servants, Invalids, &c. 27 7 
 
 bands. But their own men they handle 
 hardest, whom they judge more desperate, 
 and to have deserved greater punishment, 
 because they, being so godly brought up to 
 virtue in so excellent a common-wealth, 
 could not for all that be refrained from mis- 
 doing.* Another kind of bondmen they 
 have, when a vile drudge, being a poor 
 labourer in another country, doth choose of 
 his own free will to be a bondman among 
 them. These they intreat and order honestly, 
 and entertain almost as gently as their own free 
 citizens, saving that they put them to a little 
 more labour, as thereto accustomed. If any 
 such be disposed to depart thence, (which sel- 
 dom is seen) they neither hold him against his 
 will, nor send him away with empty hands. 
 
 * There is wisdom and justice in this observation ; and 
 the Utopians deserve great commendation for the above 
 excellent regulations. The punishment inflicted upon 
 individuals should always be in proportion to the opportu- 
 nities they have had of enlightening their minds, and of 
 knowing good from evil. The grossly ignorant man may 
 be expected to err; but the carefully instructed one 
 should shun error — " we know good things, happy are we 
 if we do them'' — (says the Gospel of Christ.). 
 
278 Of Servants, Invalids, [b. ii. 
 
 The Sick (as I said) they see to with great 
 affection, and let nothing at all pass, con- 
 cerning either physic or good diet, whereby 
 they may be restored again to their health. 
 Such as be sick of incurable diseases, they 
 comfort with sitting by them, and, to be short, 
 with all manner of helps that may be. But if 
 the disease be not only uncurable, but also 
 full of continual pain and anguish, the 
 priests and the magistrates exhort the man, 
 seeing he is not able to do any duty of life — 
 by overliving his own death, is noisome and 
 irksome to other and grievous to himself — 
 that he will determine with himself no longer 
 to cherish that pestilent and painful disease. 
 And seeing his life is to him but a tor- 
 ment, that he will not be unwilling to die, 
 but rather to take a good hope to him, 
 and either dispatch himself * out of that 
 
 * " How our author came to take up this notion, both 
 so unphilosophical and so irreligious, it is hard to say. But 
 that it was his own notion of this matter, even to the end 
 of his life, is very evident : because in one of his conversa- 
 tions with his daughter Roper in the Tower, he tells her, 
 " that if it had not been for his wife and children — whom 
 
ch. viii.] and of Marriage, &c. 279 
 
 pain, as out of a prison, or a rack of tor- 
 ment — or else suffer himself willingly to be 
 
 he accounted the chief part of his charge — he would not 
 have failed long before, to have closed himself in as 
 strait a room as that, and straiter too." With regard to 
 the Utopians, he has exculpated the people from any crime 
 in putting an end to their lives, as it is in submission to their 
 priests and magistrates ; but why he makes them expound 
 the will of God so absurdly on this article, he has given us 
 no reason; and probably because he could give none. 
 Even among them however he does not allow of suicide, at 
 a man's own caprice and humour, without the approbation 
 of the priests and senate ; to whom he gives an authority, 
 not of putting miserable people to death to rid themselves 
 of their calamities, but of consenting to that expedient, if 
 they themselves desire it upon proper motives, and in 
 proper circumstances." Warner. 
 
 The doctrine inculcated in this part of the Utopia is, in 
 every respect, unworthy of its author; whose sentiments upon 
 suicide will be found to be obscurely expressed in his " Dya- 
 logue of Comforte agaynst Tribulacion." The following 
 passage relating to a violent death, from the " thyrd booke" 
 of this work, is very artfully managed. [The Dialogue is 
 carried on between Vyncent the nephew, and Anthony the 
 uncle.] 
 
 " Vyncent. No, but he may dye hys naturall death, 
 and escape that vyolent death ; and then he saveth him- 
 self from much payne, and so winueth therewith much 
 ease: for evermore a vyolente death is payneful.— 
 
280 Of Servants, Invalids, [b. ii. 
 
 rid out of it by other. And in so doing, 
 they tell him he shall do wisely, seeing by 
 
 Anthony. Perad venture he shall not avoyde a violent 
 death thereby : for God is without doubte displeased, and 
 can bring him shortly to a death as vyolent by some other 
 way. Howbeit, I see well that you reckon ; that whoso 
 dyeth a natural death, dyeth like a wanton even at his 
 ease. You make me remember a man that was once in a 
 galey subtill with us on the sea — whiche, while the sea 
 was sore wrought, and the waves rose verye hygh, and he 
 came never on the sea afore, and lay tossed hether and 
 thether — the poore soule groned sore, and for payne he 
 thought he would verye fayne be dead, and ever he wished 
 — " Would God I were on lande, that I might die in rest I" 
 The waves so troubled hym there, with tossing him uppe and 
 down, too and fro, that he thought that trouble letted 
 him to dye, because the waves wold not let him reste. But 
 if he might get once to lande, he thoughte heshoulde then 
 dye there even at his ease! — Vyncent. Nay, uncle, this 
 is no doubte, but that death is to every man paynefull : 
 but yet is not the naturall deathe so paynfull as is the vio- 
 lent. — Anthony. By ray trouth, cousin, me thinketh 
 that the death which men calle commonly natural, is a 
 violent death to everye man whome it fetcheth hence by 
 force agaynst his will. And that is every man ; which, 
 when he dyeth, is loth to dye, and fayn would yet live 
 longer if he might !" 
 
 See More's Workes, edit. 1557- p. 1256. 
 
ch. viii.] and of Marriage , &c. 281 
 
 his death he shall lose no commodity, but 
 end his pain. And because in that act he 
 shall follow the counsel of the priests, that is 
 to say, of the interpreters of God's will and 
 pleasure, they shew him that he shall do like 
 a godly and a virtuous man. They that be 
 thus persuaded, finish their lives willingly, 
 either with hunger, or else die in their 
 sleep * without any feeling of death. But 
 they cause none such to die against his will, 
 nor do they use less diligence and attendance 
 about him : believing this to be an honour- 
 able death. Else he that killeth himself 
 before that the priests and the counsel have 
 allowed t the cause of his death, him as un- 
 worthy either to be buried, or with fire to be 
 
 * Is the taking of laudanum meant ! The author was a 
 bad physiologist if he conceived the patient to suffer no 
 pain — spasms and convulsions are most frequently the con- 
 sequence of taking laudanum, before the unhappy victim 
 is seised with total stupefaction. 
 
 f It would seem, then, that the act of suicide is neither 
 good nor bad unless committed with, or against, the consent 
 of " priests and the counsel :" this is at least a very unphi- 
 losophical mode of arguing— making other men's feelings, 
 and reasonings the criterion of our own ! 
 o o 
 
282 Of Servants, Invalids, [b. ii. 
 
 consumed, they cast unburied into some 
 stinking marsh. 
 
 The woman is not married before she be 
 eighteen years old. The man is four years 
 elder before he marry. If either the man 
 or the woman be proved to have actually of. 
 fended before their marriage with another, 
 the party that so hath trespassed is sharply 
 punished ; and both the offenders be for- 
 bidden ever after in all their life to marry : 
 unless the fault be forgiven by the prince's 
 pardon. Both the good man and good wife 
 of the house, where that offence is committed, 
 as being slack and negligent in looking to 
 their charge, be in danger of great reproach 
 and infamy. That offence is so sharply 
 punished, because they perceive that unless 
 they be diligently kept from the liberty of 
 this vice, few will join together in the love of 
 marriage, wherein all the life must be led 
 with one, and also all the griefs and displea- 
 sures coming therewith, patiently be taken 
 and born. 
 
 Furthermore, in choosing wives and hus- 
 bands, they observe earnestly and straightly 
 
ch. viii.] and of Marriage ) &c. 283 
 
 a custom * which seemed to us very fond and 
 foolish. For a grave and honest matron 
 
 * " Lord Bacon in his New Atlantis, takes notice of the 
 custom mentioned here, and objects to it as implying ' a 
 scorn to give refusal after so familiar a knowledge.' But 
 because of many hidden defects in men and women's 
 bodies, he establishes in his common-wealth, another which 
 he calls \ a more civil way' — ' Near every town are a couple 
 of pools — which they call Adam and Eve's pools — where it 
 is permitted to one of the friends of the man, and another 
 of the friends of the woman to see them severally bathe * 
 naked." Warner. 
 
 By whose suggestions, or from what incident, More has 
 framed his law of marriage among the Utopians, it were now 
 idle to conjecture : that it is ridiculous, indelicate, and un- 
 productive of good, must be readily admitted. He himself 
 entertained the highest sense of marriage, in a religious 
 point of view, as may be seen by his answer to Tindal's 
 Preface, among his works, p. 378. Burton, the cele- 
 
 * Bacon was probably induced to substitute this law, from 
 a recollection of its being the custom of our ancestors (as 
 it is still at Berne) for the sexes sometimes to bat he promis- 
 cuously. " Wenceslaus, EmperorandKingof Bohemia, who 
 died in 1418, was much attached to the bathing-girl who 
 attended him during his captivity, and for whose sake he is 
 said to have bestowed many privileges and immunities on 
 the owners of the baths at Baden." This anecdote is told 
 from Lambecius, by Mr. Ellis, in his Specimens of the 
 Early English Poets, vol. i. 345, 6. note. 
 
284 Of Servants, Invalids, [b. ii. 
 
 sheweth the woman, be she maid or widow, 
 naked to the wooer : and likewise a sage and 
 discreet man exhibiteth the wooer naked to 
 the woman. At this custom we laughed, 
 and disallowed it as foolish. But they, on 
 
 brated author of the Anatomy of Melancholy, fol. edit. 
 ]652, p. 627. tells us that " Lycurgus appointed [the 
 above custom] in hi3 laws, and More in his Utopian com- 
 monwealth approves of it." " Francis Sforza," continues 
 he, " Duke of Milan, was so curious in this behalf that he 
 would not marry the Duke of Mantua's daughter, except 
 he might see her naked first. In Ttaly, as a traveller ob- 
 serves, if a man have three or four daughters, or more, and 
 they prove fair, they are married eftsoones : if deformed, 
 they change their lovely names of Lucia, Cynthia, Camana 
 — call them Dorothie, Ursula, and Briget — and so put 
 them into monasteries ! as if none were fit for marriage but 
 such as are eminentlie faire : but these (adds our author) 
 are erroneous tenets — a modest virgin, well conditioned, to 
 such a fair snout-piece is much to be preferred !" 
 
 The epigram of Ausonius on this subject is, perhaps, 
 among the happiest extant: 
 
 " Nee mihi cincta Diana placet, nee nuda Cythere, 
 Ilia voluptatis nil habet, haec nimium." Epig. xxviii. 
 It is absurd to suppose that More was seriously impressed 
 with the excellence of the above custom ; however, in his 
 own conduct, he might have shewn himself to be a staunch 
 friend to wedlock. 
 
gh. viii.] and of Marriage, &c. 285 
 
 the other part, do greatly wonder at the folly 
 of all other nations, which in buying a colt, 
 (whereas a little money is in hazard) be so 
 chary and circumspect, that though he be 
 almost all bare, yet they will not buy him, 
 unless the saddle and all the harness be taken 
 off — least under those coverings be hid some 
 gall or sore. And yet in choosing a wife, 
 which shall be either pleasure or displeasure 
 to them all their life after, they be so rech- 
 less,* that all the residue of the woman's 
 body being covered with clothes, they esteem 
 her scarcely by one hand breadth (for they 
 can see no more but her face), and so to join 
 her to them, not without great jeopardy of 
 evil agreeing together — if any thing in her 
 body afterward should chance to offend and 
 mislike them. 
 
 For all men be not so wise as to have 
 respect to the virtuous condition of the party. 
 And the endowments of the body t cause 
 
 * Rash, negligent. 
 
 f " Plato, says Burton, calls beauty a privilege of nature, 
 nature's master-piece, a dumb comment ; Theophrastus, a 
 silent fraud ; Carneades, still rhetorick, that persuades 
 
286 Of Servants, Invalids, [b . 1 1 . 
 
 the virtues of the mind more to be esteemed 
 and regarded : yea, even the marriages of 
 
 without speech ; a kingdome without a guard ; because 
 beautiful persons command as so many captains. Young 
 men will adore and honour beauty : nay, King's themselves, 
 I say, will do it, and voluntarily submit their sovereignty 
 to a lovely woman." " Wine is strong, Kings are strong, 
 but a Woman is strongest." [1 Esd. iv. 10.] — Anatomy 
 of Melancholy, p. 454,5. edit. 1652. 
 
 " We desire to dye of our good wills," (says Boiastuau), 
 and gladly sacrifice ourselves for the beautie of some per- 
 sons; and we are so stirred, even to become out of our wits, 
 by the prickings and provocations of this f aire and beauti- 
 ful face ! Moreover, there is another miracle in the face, 
 the which, although it bee not above the greatnesse of 
 halfe a foote, notwithstanding, in the least mutation or 
 chaunging thereof, appeareth the difference of men — 
 joyful and sorrowfull — of the hardy and thefearefull,of the 
 angry and of the pitifull, of the lover and of him that hateth, 
 of him that liveth in hope and he that is without hope, of 
 whole and of the sicke, of the living and of the dead — with 
 other infinite affections, as well of the body as of the soule ! 
 For this cause it is that the great philosopher Trismigisleus, 
 after hee had profoundlye plunged in the contemplation of 
 this humane worke, cried out, saieng, " Where is the 
 painter, so well sorting his colours, that could paint 
 these faire eyes that are the windowes of the body, and 
 glasses of the soul ? Who hath formed the lippes and the 
 mouth, and knit together the sinewes? Who hath mingled 
 
ch. viii.] and of Marriage, &e. 287 
 
 wise men. Verily, so foul deformity may be 
 hid under those coverings, that it may quite 
 alienate and take away the man's mind from 
 his wife, when it shall not be lawful for their 
 bodies to be separate again. If such de- 
 formity happen by any chance after the 
 
 the veineslike water brookes, divided all over the body — by 
 the which, the humour and the blood running into divers 
 parts deweth all the members with juyces and liquors r" 
 See The Theatre or Rule of the World, p. 236, 7. 
 
 The foregoing passage is written very much in the spirit 
 of the " Epistle to the Reader," prefixed to the Second Part 
 of Primaydaye's French Academie, Lond.4to.l60i; 
 and probably gave rise to many sentiments conveyed in that 
 pious but ponderous performance. I suspect that Burton, 
 the author of the Anatomy of Melancholy, was intimately 
 acquainted with Boiastuau's book, as translated by Alday 
 —for there are passages in Burton's " Love Melancholy," 
 (the most extraordinary and amusing part of his work,) 
 which bear a very strong resemblance to many in the 
 " Gests and Countenances ridiculous of Lovers," at p. 1^5, 
 of Boiastuau's Theatre or Rule of the World. As this will 
 be the last time of my mentioning the name of Boias- 
 tuau, I take this opportunity of recommending his curious 
 book to the antiquarian reader, and to assure him that the 
 translation of Alday conveys all the spirit and interest of 
 the original. It is referred to in Ritson's Bibliographia 
 Poetica, p. 114. 
 
588 Of Servants, Invalids, [b. i'i. 
 
 marriage is consummate and finished, well : 
 therein is no remedy but patience: every 
 man must take his fortune well in worth.* 
 But it were well done that a law were made 
 whereby all such deceits might be eschewed 
 and avoided before hand. 
 
 And this were they constrained more ear- 
 nestly to look upon, because they only, of the 
 nations in that part of the world, be content 
 every man with one wife a-piece. And matri- 
 mony is there never broken but by death : 
 except adultery break the bond, or else the 
 intolerable wayward manners of either party. 
 For if either of them find themselves for 
 any such cause grieved, they may, by the 
 license of the counsel, change and take ano- 
 ther. But the other party liveth ever after 
 in infamy, and out of wedlock. Howbeit, 
 the husband to put away his wife for no 
 other fault, but for that some mishap is 
 fallen to her body, this by no means they 
 will suffer ! for they judge it a great point of 
 cruelty, that any body in their most need of 
 
 * " Every man must bear his lot as well as he is able." 
 " suam quisque sortem necesse ferat." 
 
c h . v 1 1 1 .] and of Marriage, &c, 289 
 
 in that behalf have suffered wrong, being 
 help and comfort should be cast of and for- 
 saken ; and that old age, which buth bringeth 
 sickness with it, and is a sickness itself, 
 should unkindly and unfaithfully be dealt 
 withal.* But now and then it chanceth, 
 whereas the man and woman cannot welt 
 agree between themselves, both of them 
 finding other with whom they hope to live 
 more quietly and merrily, that they, by the 
 full consent of them both, be divorced 
 asunder and married again to other. But 
 that not without the authority of the counsel: 
 which agreeth to no divorces before they 
 and their wives have diligently tried and 
 examined the matter. Yea, and then also 
 they be loth to consent to it ; because they 
 know this to be the next way to break love 
 between man and wife — to be in easy hope of 
 a new marriage ! 
 
 Breakers of wedlock be punished with 
 most grievous bondage: and if both the of- 
 fenders were married, then the parties which 
 
 • This, it must be confessed, is a sound and virtuous 
 maxim ; more worthy of Utopian wedlock than the ridi- 
 culous introduction of the bridal parties. 
 Pp 
 
290 Of Servants, Invalids, [b. ii* 
 
 divorced from the adulterers, be married 
 together if they will, or else to whom they 
 list. But if either of them both do still 
 continue in love toward so unkind a bed- 
 fellow, the use of wedlock is not to them for- 
 bidden ; if the party faultless be disposed to 
 follow, in toiling and drudgery, the person 
 which for that offence is condemned to bon- 
 dage. And very oft it chanceth that the 
 repentance of the one, and the earnest dili- 
 gence of the other, doth so move the prince 
 with pity and compassion, that he restoreth 
 the bond person from servitude to liberty 
 and freedom again. But if the same party 
 be taken eftsoons * in that fault, there is no 
 other way but death. To other trespasses 
 no prescript punishment is appointed by 
 any law. But according to the heinousness 
 of the offence, or contrary, so the punish- 
 ment is moderated by the discretion of the 
 counsel. The husbands chastise their wives t 
 
 * Afterwards . 
 
 f The husband, by the old common law of England, 
 might give his wife u moderate correction ;" and the lower 
 orders of people, (who are always fond of the old common 
 law) still claim and exercise their ancient privilege. The 
 instrument of castigation has yet, however, been imper- 
 
ch. viii.] and of Marriage, &c. 2QI 
 
 and the parents their children, unless they 
 have done any so horrible an offence that the 
 open punishment thereof maketh much for 
 the advancement of honest manners. 
 
 But most commonly the most heinous 
 faults be punished with the incommodity of 
 bondage. For that they suppose to be to 
 the offenders no less grief, and to the com- 
 mon-wealth more profit, than if they should 
 hastily put them to death, and so make them 
 quite out of the way. For there cometh 
 more profit of their labour than of their 
 death*, and by their example they fear other 
 the longer from like offences.* But if they 
 being thus used, do rebel and kick again, 
 then forsooth they be slain as desperate and 
 wild beasts ; whom neither prison nor chain 
 
 fectly defined, notwithstanding the dictum of a late learned 
 judge at Nisi Prius. The civil law gave the husband a very 
 unwarrantable authority over his wife — [" flagellis et fus- 
 tibus acriter verberare uxorem"] — " to beat her severely 
 with whips and cudgels." See Blackstone's Commenta- 
 ries, vol. i. 444. edit. 1787. 
 
 * More here takes another opportunity of expressing his 
 abhorrence of capital punishments. — See the note in vol. i, 
 p. 78. 
 
392 Of Servants , Invalids , [b. n. 
 
 could restrain and keep under. But they 
 which take their bondage patiently, be not 
 left all hopeless. For after they have been 
 broken and tamed with long miseries, if then 
 they shew such repentance, as thereby it 
 may be perceived that they be sorrier for 
 their offence than for their punishment — 
 sometimes by the prince's prerogative, and 
 sometimes by the voice or else consent of the 
 people — their bondage either is mitigated, or 
 clean released and forgiven. 
 
 He that moveth to adultery is in no less 
 danger and jeopardy, than if he had com- 
 mitted adultery in deed. For in all offences 
 they count the intent * and pretended pur- 
 pose, as evil as the act or deed itself; think- 
 ing that no let ought to excuse him, that did 
 his best to have no let. 
 
 * In this country, on trials for murder, the killing must 
 be proved to have been committed with malice prepense, 
 or premeditated malice ; and this malice may be either 
 expressed or implied. Expressed, when any one, with a 
 determined intention, or deliberately formed design, mur- 
 ders another: implied, when one kills another suddenly, 
 without any, or without a considerable, provocation ; for 
 no person, unless of an abandoned heart, would be guilty 
 of such an act. All homicide is presumed to be malicious, 
 
c h . viii.] and of Marriage, &c. 293 
 
 They have singular delight and pleasure 
 in Fools. And as it is a great reproach to 
 do any of them hurt or injury, so they pro- 
 hibit not to take pleasure of foolishness : 
 for that they think doth much good to the 
 fools. And if any man be so sad and stern 
 that he cannot laugh neither at their words 
 nor at their deeds, none of them be com- 
 mitted to his tuition, for fear least he would 
 not intreat them gently and favourably 
 enough : to whom they should bring no de- 
 lectation, (for other goodness in them is 
 none) much less any profit should they yield 
 him.* To mock a man for his deformity, 
 
 until the contrary appear upon evidence. Blacks one's 
 Commentaries, vol. iv. 199, &c. edit. 1787. 
 
 * " This was inserted probably in order to make an apo- 
 logy for the custom of his own country at that time; in 
 which every man of fashion — as we call them — had his 
 fool to divert him, as regularly as the same men now 
 have their valet de chambre to dress them: and this is a 
 much better apology for that custom of our ancestors, 
 than can be made for this of our cotemporaries : the one 
 might be absurd, but the other is pernicious." Warner. 
 
 The reader has already (vol. i. p. 90.) had some ac- 
 count of the fashion of these times, in monarchs and great 
 
294 Of Servants, Invalids, [b. ii. 
 
 or thathelacketh one part or limb of his body, 
 13 counted great dishonesty and reproach, 
 not to him that is mocked, but to him that 
 mocketh ; it being unwise to imbraid any 
 man of that as a vice that was not in his power 
 to eschew. Also as they count and reckon 
 very little wit to be in him that regardeth 
 not natural beauty and comeliness, so to 
 help the same with paintings,* is taken for 
 a vain and wanton pride, not without great 
 
 men keeping fools, as we do servants. The importance 
 attached to them was very considerable, if we may judge 
 from the following anecdote related of Cardinal Wolsey. 
 While the Cardinal thought there was yet a chance of re- 
 conciliation with Henry, after his disgrace, " he sent to the 
 king as the most valuable of all his gifts, his fool Patch, 
 whom he had cherished as one reserve of happiness in his 
 misfortunes." — Davies' Dramatic Miscellanies, vol. i. 408,9. 
 • We may infer from this sentiment that face-painting was 
 as prevalent in the reign of Henry VIII. as it is in that of 
 Geo. III. Among the fashionable females of the present day, 
 this practice is carried on in the most absurd and unnatural 
 manner : these ladies perhaps are not aware of " Certaine 
 edicts from a parliament in Eutovia, written by the Lady 
 Southwell," — among which we find " That no Lady that 
 useth to paint, shall finde fault with her painter that hath 
 not counterfeited her picture faire enough — unless she will 
 
ch. vin.] and of Marriage, &c. 295 
 
 infamy. For they know even by very expe- 
 
 acknowledge herself e to be the better counterfeiter !" See 
 Sir Thomas Overbury's Characters. Sign.R. 2. 
 
 The most pernicious fashion in use among the women of 
 the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries was that of painting. 
 It appears from the Hist. Litt. des Troubadours, t. iii. 167. 
 that the ladies used a mixture of quick silver and various 
 drugs for painting, as well as the common red and white. 
 See Mr. Ellis's Sp. Early Engl. Poets, vol. i. 337- 8. 
 
 " The first mention, says Strutt, that I remember to have 
 seen of painting the face being used in England, is in a 
 very old MS. preserved in the Harleian library, of the 
 date, probably of the 14th century, wherein is the following 
 
 " Recipe for to make a fair face, 
 Mix together the milk of an ass, and of a black cow, and 
 brimstone, of each a like quantity ; and annoint thy face, 
 so thou shalt be fair and white !" 
 
 Manners and Customs of the English, vol. iii. 103. 
 
 In one of Dekker's pieces, not of the most delicate title, 
 a courtezan's toilet is described to consist of " a table, a 
 cushion, a looking-glass, and a chafing-dish, with a small 
 phial of white mixture, and two little pots ; one of white, 
 the other of red paint." — Ibid. 
 
 In whatever criminal point of view the custom oifacc 
 painting might have been considered by our ancestors, we 
 find that it continued as uninterruptedly in the 17th*, as it 
 
 * Perhaps the most curious picture of the paraphernalia 
 of a toilet, and the costume of full dress, in these times, is 
 
296 Of Servants, Invalids, [b. ii. 
 
 rience, that no comeliness of beauty doth so 
 highly commend and advance the wives in 
 
 did in the lfjth and 15th centuries. Prynne, in his " Un- 
 loveliness of Love Locks," 1628, and in his famous" His- 
 trio-Mastix," 1633, levelled against it all the fury of his 
 invectives ; calling it " an accursed hellish art," [pp. 159, 
 &c. 890] ; and raking" up, from the Fathers, every senti- 
 ment of disdain and indignation with which their volu- 
 minous folios supplied him in abundance. 
 
 In the year 1662, a less virulent, but more powerful ad- 
 vocate appeared against the art of face-painting — this was 
 the author of " A Discourse of Artificial Beauty, in point 
 of Conscience between two Ladies," 8vo. with a frontispiece 
 
 the following, — written by Anthony Brewer, in his play 
 called " Lingua," 1607. " Tis five hours ago I set a 
 dozen maids to attire a boy like a nice gentlewoman ! but 
 there is such doing with their looking-glasses, pinning, un- 
 pinnirg, setting, unsetting, forming, and conforming — 
 painting blue veins, and bloomy chetks ; such a stir with 
 sticks, and combs, and cascanets, dressings, jewels, falls, 
 squares, buj-ks, bodice scarfs, necklaces, carcanets, raba- 
 toes, bordeis, tires, fanns, palisadoes, puffs, ruffs, cuffs, 
 muffs, pusles, fusles, partlets, frislets, bundlets, fillets, 
 croslets, pendulets, annulets, amulets, bracelets, and so 
 many lets, that yet she's scarce drest to the girdle; and 
 now there is such calling for fardingales, kirtles, busk 
 points, shoe ties, &c. that seven pedlars shops, nay all 
 Stourbridge fair, will scarce furnish her. A ship is 
 sooner rigg'd by far, than a gentlewoman made ready." 
 
 r \ his play is reprinted in Doddesley's Collection of Old 
 Plays. Some account of it may be seen in Baker's Biogr. 
 Dram. vol. i. 43. edit. 1782. 
 
ch, viii.] and of Marriage, &c. 297 
 
 the conceits of their husbands, as honest con- 
 ditions, and lowliness : for as love is often- 
 times won with beauty, so it is not kept, 
 preserved, and continued, but by virtue and 
 obedience. 
 
 of two women ; the one plainly arrayed, with her hand 
 upon the Bible, pointing to the other — who is represented 
 with a fan in her hand, and her face covered with beauty 
 spots. Beneath is this Greek motto, " NotJn jqm 6e«o-9«t" — 
 " The mind is the principal thing which ought to be seen." 
 The supposed author of this work is no less a writer 
 than Jeremy Tavlor — the preface, which is admirably 
 written, and is in every respect worthy of his high reputa- 
 tion, artfully assigns to it a female author. 
 
 °_q 
 
[ 298 ] [b. ii. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Spirit of the Laws. 
 
 1 hey do not only, fear their people from 
 doing evil by punishments, but also allure 
 them to virtue with rewards of honour. 
 Therefore they set up in the market place 
 the images of notable men, and of such as 
 have been bountiful benefactors to the com- 
 mon-wealth, for the perpetual memory of 
 their good acts : and also that the glory and 
 renown of the ancestors may stir and pro- 
 voke their posterity to virtue. He that in- 
 ordinately and ambitiously desireth promo- 
 tions, is left all hopeless for ever attaining 
 any promotion as long as he liveth. They 
 live together lovingly : for no magistrate is 
 either haughty or fearful. Fathers they be 
 called, and like fathers they use themselves. 
 The citizens (as it is their duty) willingly 
 exhibit unto them due honour without any 
 compulsion. Nor is the Prince himself 
 
ch. ix.] Spirit of the Laws. 299 
 
 known from the other by princely apparel, 
 or a robe of state, or by a crown or diadem 
 royal, or cap of maintenance,* but by a little 
 sheaf of corn carried before him. And so a 
 taper of wax is born before the bishop, 
 whereby only he is known. 
 
 They have but few laws. For to people 
 to instruct and institute, very few do suffice. 
 Yea, this thing they chiefly reprove among 
 other nations, that innumerable t books of 
 laws and expositions upon the same be not 
 sufficient. But they think it against all right 
 and justice, that men should be bound to 
 those laws which either be in number more 
 than be able to be read, or else blinder and 
 darker than that any man can well under- 
 stand them. Furthermore, they utterly ex- 
 
 * This is gratuitous in the translation — " vestis aut 
 diadema" being the expressions of More. 
 
 f The Statute Law only of this country is at present 
 comprised in no fewer than twenty quarto volumes. The 
 statutes enacted during the present reign of George III. are 
 considerably more numerous than those enacted by the 
 whole line of preceding British kings. Viner, sixty years 
 ago, wrote an abridgement of the common aud statute laws 
 of England in twenty-four folio volumes! 
 
300 Spirit of the Laws. [u. n. 
 
 elude and banish all altornies, proctors, and 
 Serjeants at the law,* which craftily handle 
 matters, and subtily dispute of the laws. 
 For they think it most meet that every man 
 should plead his own matter, and tell the 
 same tale to the judge, that he would tell to 
 his man of law. So shall there be less cir- 
 cumstance of words, and the truth shall 
 sooner come to light, whilst the judge with 
 a discreet judgment doth away the words of 
 him, whom no lawyer hath instructed with 
 deceit, and whilst he beareth out simple wits 
 against the false and malicious circumven- 
 tions of crafty children. + This is hard to be 
 
 * How this would be relished at the present day — let us 
 ask " attornies, proctors, and Serjeants at law ?" More 
 was not Chancellor of England when he reasoned thus. 
 
 f It is said of More, that at his coining into office of 
 Chancellor, " he found the Court of Chancerie pestered 
 and clogged with manie and tedious causes, some having 
 hung there almost twentie years." Before he left the 
 situation, he one day called " for the next cause ?" upon 
 which he was answered there was " none other upon the 
 list" — this, say his biographers, he caused " tobeput upon 
 record, as a kotable thing !" When will this day 
 return ? 
 
ch. ix.] Spirit of the Laws, 301 
 
 observed in other countries, in so infinite 
 a number of blind and intricate laws. But 
 in Utopia every man is a * cunning lawyer. 
 For as (I said) they have very few laws : and 
 the plainer and grosser that any interpreta- 
 tion is, that they allow as most just. For all 
 laws (say they) be made and published only 
 to the intent that by them every man shall be 
 put in remembrance of his duty. But the 
 crafty and subtle interpretation of them (for- 
 asmuch as few can attain thereto) can put 
 very few in that remembrance ; whereas the 
 simple, the plain, and gross meaning of the 
 laws is open to every man. Else as touch- 
 ing the vulgar sort of the people, which be 
 both most in number, and have most need 
 to know their duties, were it not as good for 
 them, that no law were made at all, as, when 
 it is made, to bring so blind an interpretation 
 upon it, that without great wit and long ar- 
 guing no man can discuss it? To the find- 
 ing out whereof, neither the gross judgment 
 of the people can attain, neither the whole 
 life of them that be occupied in working for 
 
 • Skilful. 
 
302 Spirit of the Laws. [b. n. 
 
 their livings can suffice thereto. These vir- 
 tues of the Utopians have caused their next 
 neighbours and borderers, which live free 
 and under no subjection, (for the Utopians 
 long ago have delivered many of them from 
 tyranny) to make magistrates of them, some 
 for a year, and some for five years space ; 
 which, when the time of their office is ex- 
 pired, they bring home again with honour 
 and praise and take new again with them 
 into their country. 
 
 These nations have undoubtedly very well 
 and wholesomely provided for their com- 
 mon-wealths. For seeing that both the 
 making and the marring of the weal-pub- 
 lic, doth depend and hang upon the man- 
 ners of the rulers and magistrates, what of- 
 ficers could they more wisely have chosen, 
 than those which cannot be led from honesty 
 by bribes (for to them that shortly after shall 
 depart thence into their own country, money 
 should be unprofitable), nor yet be moved 
 either with favour or malice towards any 
 man, as being strangers, and unacquainted 
 with the people? The which two vices 
 
ch. ix.] Spirit of the Laws. 303 
 
 of affection and avarice, where they take 
 in judgments, incontinent* they break jus- 
 tice — the strongest and surest bond of a com- 
 mon-wealth. These people, which fetch their 
 officers and rulers from them, the Utopians 
 call their fellows : and other, to whom they 
 have been beneficial, they call their friends. 
 As touching leagues, which in other places 
 between country and country be so often 
 concluded, broken, and renewed, they never 
 make none with any nation. For to what 
 purpose serve leagues, say they ! As though 
 nature had not set sufficient love between 
 man and man ! And whoso regardeth 
 not nature, think you that he will pass for 
 words? They be brought into this opinion 
 chiefly because, that, in these parts of the 
 world, leagues between princes be wont to 
 be kept and observed very slenderly. For 
 here in Europe, and especially in these parts 
 where the faith and religion of Christ 
 reigneth, the majesty of leagues is every 
 where esteemed holy and inviolable : partly 
 through the justice and goodness of princes, 
 * Immediately : directly. 
 
304 Spirit of the Laws. [b. ii. 
 
 and partly at the reverence and motion of the 
 head bishops. Which, like as they make no 
 promise themselves, but they do very reli- 
 giously perform the same, so they exhort all 
 princes in any wise to abide by their pro- 
 mises; and them that refuse or deny so to 
 do, by their pontifical power and authority, 
 they compel thereto. And surely they 
 think well that it might seem a very re- 
 proachful thing, if in the leagues of them 
 which by a peculiar name be called faithful, 
 faith should have no place !* But in that new- 
 found part of the world, which is scarcely 
 so far from us beyond the line equinoctial, 
 as our life and manners be dissident t from 
 theirs, no trust nor confidence is in leagues. 
 But the more and holier ceremony the 
 league is knit up with, the sooner it is broken 
 by some cavillation J found in the words, 
 which many times of purpose be so craftily 
 
 * How faithfully leagues were kept in More's time, be- 
 tween Emperors, Popes, and Kings, let the pages of Dr. 
 Robertson's Charles V. tell ! 
 
 t Disagreeing — from the Latin dissideo, 
 
 X The old substantive for cavil. 
 
ch. ix.] Spirit of the Laws. 30.5 
 
 put in and placed that the bands can never 
 be so sure nor so strong, but they will find 
 some hole open to creep out at, and to break 
 both league and truth. 
 
 The which crafty dealing, yea the which 
 fraud and deceit, if they should know it to 
 be practised among private men in their 
 bargains and contracts, they would incon- 
 tinent cry out at it with an open mouth, and 
 a sour countenance, as an offence most de- 
 testable, and worthy to be punished with a 
 shameful death ; yea even * very they that 
 vaunt themselves authors of like counsel, 
 given to princes. Wherefore it may well 
 be thought, either that all justice is but a base 
 and a low virtue, and which availeth itself 
 far under the high dignity of kings — or, at 
 the least wise, that there be two justices : the 
 one meet for the inferior sort of the people ; 
 going a-foot and creeping low by the ground, 
 and bound down on every side with many 
 bands, because it shall not run at rovers — the 
 other, a princely virtue ; which, like as it is 
 of much higher majesty than the other poor 
 
 * They themselves. 
 R r 
 
306 Spirit of the Laws. [b. u. 
 
 justice, so also it is of much more liberty ; as 
 to the which, nothing is unlawful that it 
 lusteth after. These manners of princes (as 
 I said), which be there so evil keepers of 
 leagues, cause the Utopians, as I suppose, to 
 make no leagues at all ; which perchance 
 would change their mind if they lived here. 
 Howbeit, they think that though leagues be 
 never so faithfully observed and kept, yet 
 the custom of making leagues was very evil 
 begun. For this causeth men (as though 
 nations which be separate asunder by the 
 space of a little hill, or river, were coupled 
 together by no society or bond of nature) to 
 think themselves born adversaries and ene- 
 mies one to another, and that it were lawful 
 for the one to seek the death and destruction 
 of the other, if leagues were not : yea, and 
 that after the leagues be accorded, friendship 
 doth not grow and increase : but the licence 
 of robbing and stealing doth still remain, as 
 far forth as for lack of foresight and advise- 
 ment in writing, the words of the league, any 
 sentence or clause to the contrary, are not 
 therein sufficiently comprehended. But they 
 
ch. ix.] Spirit of the Laws. 307 
 
 be of a contrary opinion. That is, that no 
 man ought so be counted an enemy which 
 hath done no injury : and that the fellow- 
 ship of nature is a strong league, and that 
 men be better and more surely knit together 
 by love and benevolence than by covenants 
 of leagues : by hearty affection of mind, 
 than by words.* 
 
 * Such are the principles of legislation by which More 
 would govern his Utopian community. However pleasing 
 and delightful they may appear, they are, in too many in- 
 stances, founded upon a supposition of that perfect ability of 
 human nature, of which neither the past nor the present 
 annals of the world afford us any examples. It is easy for 
 the imagination to create human beings for laws ; but it is 
 not quite so easy to form laws for human beings, such as 
 Providence has thought proper to create them. Hence it 
 is, that our author has in a great measure flattered himself 
 with fiction instead of truth ; and that the " Spirit of the 
 Laws" observable in Utopia, is better suited for the regions 
 of fancy than of reality. 
 
[ 308 ] [b. ii. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Of War* 
 
 VV a r or battle, as a thing very beastly, 
 [and yet no kind of beasts so much use it as 
 man] they do detest and abhor. And contrary 
 to the custom almost of all other nations, they 
 count nothing so much against glory, as glory 
 gotten in war. And therefore, though they 
 do daily practise and exercise themselves in 
 the discipline of war, not only the men, but 
 also the women, upon certain appointed 
 days, least they should be to seek in the feat 
 of arms, if need should require — yet they 
 never go to battle, but either in the defence 
 of their own country, or to drive out of their 
 
 * More's friend, Erasmus, seems to have entertained 
 something like similar notions of war and peace. The 
 '* Pads Querela" of this latter writer, first printed in the 
 office of Froben, 15 16, 4to. with Polydore Virgil's " Book 
 of Proverbs," [see Panzer's Annal. Typog. vol. vi. 198. J 
 is a truly original and beautiful composition. 
 
chap, x.] Of War. 309 
 
 friends' land the enemies that have in- 
 vaded it:* or by their power to deliver from 
 the yoke and bondage of tyranny, some 
 people that be therewith oppressed ; which 
 thing they do of mere pity and compassion. 
 Howbeit, they send help to their friends, 
 not always in their defence, but sometimes 
 also to requite and revenge injuries before to 
 them done.-f But this they do not unless 
 their counsel and advice in the matter be 
 asked, whilst it is yet new and fresh — for if 
 they find the cause probable, and if the con- 
 trary part will not restore again such things 
 as be of them justly demanded, then they be 
 
 * " That be comen in," in the translation of 1551. 
 
 f " Quanquam auxiliura gratificantur amicis, non sem- 
 per quidem quo se defendant, sed interdum quoque illatas 
 retalient atque ulciscantur injurias." In the French trans- 
 lation : " Les Utopiens fournissent done de leur propre 
 finance des troupes auxiliaires a leurs amis. lis ne le font 
 pas seulement pour aider les voisins a repousser l'at- 
 taque, a se defendre contre les injustes agresseurs ; ils 
 les secourent aussi pour leur donner moien d'exercer la 
 loi du talion, et de se venger du tort et des injustices qu'ils 
 ont souffert." This is paraphrastic enough ; but probably 
 it conveys the meaning of More. 
 
310 Of War. [b. ii. 
 
 the chief authors and makers of the war. 
 Which they do, not only as oft as by the in- 
 roads and invasions of soldiers, preys and 
 booties be driven away, but then also much 
 more mortally, when their friends merchants 
 in any land, either under the pretence of un- 
 just laws, or else by the wresting and wrong 
 understanding of good laws, do sustain an 
 unjust accusation under the colour of jus- 
 tice. 
 
 Neither the battle which the Utopians 
 fought for the JVephelogetes against the Alao- 
 politaneS) a little before our time, was made for 
 any other cause but that the Nephelogete mer- 
 chant-men, as the Utopians thought, suffered 
 wrong of the Alaopolitans, under the pretence 
 of right. But whether it were right or wrong, 
 it was with so cruel and mortal war revenged, 
 the countries round about joining their help 
 and power to the puissance and malice of both 
 parties, that most flourishing and wealthy 
 people, being some of them shrewdly * shaken 
 and some of them sharply beaten, the mis- 
 
 * Destructively. 
 
 \ 
 
ch. x.] 0/ War. 311 
 
 chiefs were not finished nor ended, until the 
 Alaopolitans at the last were yielded up as 
 bondmen into the jurisdiction of the Nephe- 
 logetes. For the Utopians fought not this war 
 for themselves. And yet the Nephelogetes 
 before the war, when the Alaopolitanes flou- 
 rished in wealth, were nothing to be com- 
 pared with them. So eagerly the Utopians 
 prosecute the injuries done to their friends : 
 yea, in money matters, and not their own 
 likewise. For if they by covin or guile be 
 wiped* beside their goods, so that no violence 
 be done to their bodies, they ease their anger 
 by abstaining from occupying with that 
 nation until they have made satisfaction. 
 Not for because they set less stoie by their 
 own citizens than by their friends', but that 
 they take the loss of their friends money 
 more heavily than the loss of their own. 
 Because that their friends' merchantmen, for 
 as much as that the loss is their own private 
 goods, sustain great damage by the loss. 
 
 * This expression is strong, and peculiar to " Master 
 Raphe Robinson" In the Latin, it is " qui sicubi circum- 
 scripta bonis excidant." 
 
312 Of War. [b. ii. 
 
 But their own citizens lose nothing but of 
 the common goods, and of that which was at 
 home plentiful and almost superfluous ; else 
 had it not been sent forth. Therefore no 
 man feeleth the loss. And for this cause they 
 think it too cruel an act to revenge the loss 
 with the death of man; the incommodity of 
 the which loss no man feeleth, neither in his 
 life, nor yet in his living. But if it chance 
 that any of their men be in any other coun- 
 try maimed or killed, whether it be done by 
 a common or a private counsel, (knowing 
 and trying out the truth of the matter by 
 their ambassadors,) unless the offenders be 
 rendered unto them in recompense of the 
 injury, they will not be appeased: but in- 
 continent they proclaim war against them. 
 The offenders yielded, they punish either 
 with death, or with bondage. 
 
 They be not only sorry, but also ashamed, 
 to achieve the victory with bloodshed ; 
 counting it great folly to buy precious wares 
 too dear. They rejoice and avaunt * them- 
 
 * For " vaunt:" boast. 
 
ch. x.] Of War. 313 
 
 selves, if they vanquish and oppress their 
 enemy by craft and deceit. And for that 
 act they make a general triumph ; and as if 
 the matter were manfully handled, they set 
 up a pillar of stone in the place where they 
 so vanquished their enemies, in token of 
 their victory. For then they glory ; then 
 they boast and crack * that they have played 
 the men indeed, when they have so over- 
 come, as no other living creature but only 
 man could : that is to say, by the might and 
 puissance of wit! For with bodily strength 
 (say they) bears, lions, boars, wolves, dogs, 
 and other wild beasts do fight. And as the 
 most part of them do pass us in strength and 
 fierce courage, so in wit and reason we be 
 
 * Meaning, that they exult exceedingly. In the original 
 Latin it is simply " viriliter sese jactant." Shakspeare 
 rarely introduces the verb " crack" in the above sense. — 
 £" And Ethiops of their sweet complexions crack" — cited 
 in Johnson's Dictionary.] The substantive '• crack" is 
 ably discussed in the volumes x. 22.; xii. 129; xvi. 32. 
 of Reed's edit. 1803. Neither Minsheu, Skinner, nor 
 Junius were acquainted with the verb " crack," as here 
 used by Robinson. 
 
 S S 
 
3U Of War. [b. ii. 
 
 much stronger than they all. Their chief and 
 principal purpose in war is to obtain that 
 thing, which, if they had before obtained, 
 they would not have moved battle. But if 
 that be not possible, they take such cruel 
 vengeance of them which be in the fault, that 
 ever after they be afraid to do the like. 
 
 This is their chief and principal intent 
 which they immediately and first of all pro- 
 secute and set forward. But yet so, that 
 they be more circumspect in avoiding and 
 eschewing jeopardies, than they be desirous of 
 praise and renown. Therefore immediately 
 after that war is once solemnly denounced, 
 they procure many proclamations, signed with 
 their own common seal, to be set up privily 
 at one time in their enemies land in places 
 most frequented. In these proclamations 
 they promise great rewards to him that will 
 kill * their enemy's prince ; and somewhat 
 less gifts, (but them very great also), for 
 
 * This is a very unphilosophical and unjust mode of 
 reasoning and of acting. Mr. Roscoe somewhere well ob- 
 serves in his Lorenzo de Medici, that no principle, no combi- 
 nation of circumstances whatever, can justify assassination. 
 
ch. x.] Of War. Sib 
 
 every head of them whose names be in the 
 said proclamations contained. They be 
 those whom they count their chief adversa- 
 ries, next unto the prince whom there is pre- 
 scribed. Unto him that killeth any of the pro- 
 claimed persons, that is doubled to him that 
 bringeth any of the same to them alive : yea, 
 and to the proclaimed persons themselves, 
 if they will change their minds and come 
 unto them : taking their parts, they proffer 
 the same great rewards, with pardon and 
 surety of their lives. Therefore it quickly 
 cometh to pass that their enemies have all 
 other men in suspicion, and be unthankful 
 and mistrusting among themselves one to ano- 
 ther, living in great fear and in no less jeo- 
 pardy. For it is well known, that divers times 
 the most partof them, (and specially the prince 
 himself) hath been betrayed of them in whom 
 they put their most hope and trust. So there 
 is no manner of act nor deed that gifts and 
 rewards do not enforce men unto. And in 
 rewards they keep no measure. But remem- 
 bering and considering into how great hazard 
 and jeopardy they call them, endeavour 
 
316 Of War. [b. ii. 
 
 themselves to recompense the greatness of 
 the danger with like great benefits. And 
 therefore they promise not only wonderful 
 great abundance of gold, but also lands of 
 great revenues, lying in most safe places among 
 their friends. And their promises they per- 
 form faithfully without any fraud or covin. 
 
 This custom of buying and selling adver- 
 saries, among other people is disallowed as 
 a cruel act of a base and a cowardish mind. 
 But they in this behalf think themselves 
 much praiseworthy as men who by this 
 means dispatch great wars without battle 
 or skirmish. Yea, they count it also a deed 
 of pity and mercy ; because that by the death 
 of a few offenders, the lives of a great num- 
 ber of innocents, as well of their own men, 
 as also of their enemies, be ransomed and 
 saved ; which in fighting should have been 
 slain. For they do no less pity the base 
 and common sort of their enemies' people, 
 than they do their own : knowing that they 
 be driven and forced to war against their 
 wills, by the furious madness of their Princes 
 and Heads. If by none of these means the 
 
gh. x.] Of War. 317 
 
 matter go forward as they would have it, then 
 they procure occasions of debate and dissen- 
 tion to be spread among their enemies. As 
 by bringing the Princes brother, or some of 
 the noblemen, in hope to obtain the king- 
 dom. If this way prevail not, then they 
 raise up the people that be next neighbours 
 and borderers to their enemies ; and them 
 they set in their necks, under the colour of 
 some old title of right — such as kings do 
 never lack. To them they promise their help 
 and aid .in their war. And as for money, 
 they give them abundance ; but to their own 
 citizens they send to them few or none: 
 whom they make so much of, and love so 
 entirely, that they would not be willing to 
 change any of them for their adversary's 
 prince. But their gold and silver, because 
 they keep it all for this only purpose, they 
 lay it out frankly and freely ; as * who 
 should live even as wealthily if they had be- 
 stowed it every penny. Yea, and besides 
 their riches, which they keep at home, they 
 
 * For " they would." 
 
318 Of War. [b. ii. 
 
 have also an infinite treasure abroad, by 
 reason that (as I said before) many nations 
 be in their debt. Therefore they hire sol- 
 diers out of all countries, and send them to 
 battle, but chiefly of the Zapolets. 
 
 This people is five hundred miles from 
 Utopia eastward. They be hideous, savage, 
 and fierce ; dwelling in wild woods, and 
 high mountains, where they were bred and 
 brought up. They be of an hard nature, 
 able to abide and sustain heat, cold, and 
 labour ; abhorring * from all delicate dainties, 
 occupying no husbandry nor tillage of the 
 ground ; homely and rude both in building 
 of their houses ; and in their apparel, given 
 unto no goodness, but only to the breeding 
 and bringing up of cattle. The most part 
 of their living is by hunting and stealing. 
 They be born only to war, which they dili- 
 gently and earnestly seek for. And when 
 they have gotten it. they be wonderous glad 
 thereof. They go forth of their country in 
 
 * We say, properly, " averse from." The article 
 " from" is now obsolete as applicable to " abhorring," or 
 abhorrent. 
 
ch. x.] Of War. 319 
 
 great companies together, and whosoever 
 lacketh soldiers, there they proffer their 
 service for small wages. This is only the 
 craft that they have to get their living by. 
 They maintain their lives by seeking their 
 death. For them with whom they be in wages, 
 they fight hardly, fiercely, and faithfully. 
 They bind themselves for no certain time. 
 But upon this condition they enter into bonds, 
 that the next day they will take part with the 
 other side for greater wages ; and the next 
 day after that, theywill be ready to come back 
 again for a little more money.* There be 
 few wars thereaway,! wherein is not a great 
 number of them in both parties. Therefore 
 it daily chanceth, that nigh kinsfolk, which 
 were hired together on one part, and there 
 very friendly and familarly used themselves 
 one with another — shortly after, being se- 
 parate into contrary parts, run one against 
 
 * This is a very strong picture of the human character ; 
 which will sometimes wade through perfidy, blood, and 
 slaughter, for the acquisition of paltry lucre. 
 
 t Thereabouts: in those parts. 
 
320 0J War. [b. ii. 
 
 another enviously and fiercely : and target- 
 ing both kindred and friendship, thrust their 
 swords one in another. And that for none 
 other cause, but that they be hired for con- 
 trary princes for a little money! which 
 they do so highly regard and esteem, that 
 they will easily be provoked to change parts 
 for a halfpenny more wages by the day ! So 
 quickly they have taken a smack in covatous- 
 ness, which for all that is to them no profit ; 
 for what they get by fighting, immediately 
 they spend needlessly, unthriftily, and 
 wretchedly in riot ! 
 
 This people fighteth for the Utopians 
 against all nations, because they give them 
 greater wages than any other nation will. 
 For the Utopians, like as they seek good men 
 to use well, so they seek these evil and 
 vicious men to abuse : whom, when need 
 requireth, with promises of great rewards, 
 they put forth into great jeopardies. From 
 whence the most part of them never cometh 
 again to ask their rewards. But to them 
 that remain alive, they pay that which they 
 promised faithfully ; that they may be the 
 
ch. x.] Of War. 321 
 
 more willing to put themselves in like danger 
 another time. Nor the Utopians pass * not 
 how many of them they bring to destruction. 
 For they believe that they should do a very 
 good deed for all mankind, if they could rid 
 out of the world all that foul stinking den 
 of that most wicked and cursed people. 
 
 Next unto these, they use the soldiers 
 of them for whom they fight : and then 
 the help of their other friends, and last 
 of all, they join to their own citizens ; among 
 whom they give to one of tried virtue and 
 powers, the rule, governance, and conduc- 
 tion of the whole army. Under him they 
 appoint two other, which, whilst he is 
 safe, be both private and out of office. 
 But if he be taken or slain, the one of 
 the other succeedeth him, as it were by in- 
 heritance. And if the second miscarry, then 
 the third taketh his room, least that (as the 
 
 * Care not : consider not. il Neque enim pensi quic- 
 quara habent, quam multos ex eis perdant ; rati de genere 
 huraano maximam merituros gratiam se, si tota ilia col- 
 luvie populi tam tetri ac nefarii, orbem terrarum purgare 
 possent." 
 
 T t 
 
3S2 Of War. [b. ii. 
 
 chance of battle is uncertain and doubtful) 
 the jeopardy of death of the captain should 
 bring the whole army in hazard. They 
 choose soldiers out of every city, those which 
 put forth themselves willingly ; for they 
 thrust no man forth into war against his 
 will : because they believe if any man be 
 fearful and faint-hearted of nature, he will 
 not only do no manful and hardy act him- 
 self, but also be occasion of cowardness to his 
 fellows. But if any battle be made against 
 their own country, then they put these 
 cowards (so that they be strong bodied) in 
 ships among other bold-hearted men, or 
 else they dispose them upon the walls, from 
 whence they may not fly. Thus, what for 
 shame that their enemies be at hand, and 
 what for because they be without hope of 
 running away, they forget all fear.* And 
 
 * It is sometimes the practice of modern generalship to 
 put raw and doubtful troops in front of those battalions 
 which are to commence the action : hence, these troops 
 have the benefit of receiving the first round of grape and 
 canister shot, which are discharged from batteries and ram- 
 parts, &c. ! We all remember how Douraourier won the 
 battle of Jemappe ! 
 
ch. x.] Of War. 323 
 
 many times extreme necessity turneth coward- 
 ness into prowess and manliness. But as none 
 of them is thrust forth of his country into war 
 against his will, so women, that be willing to 
 accompany their husbands in time of war, be 
 not prohibited or letted; yea, theyprovokeand 
 exhort them to it with praises; and, in set field, 
 the wives do stand every one by their own 
 husband's side ; also every man is compassed 
 next about with his own children, kinsfolks, 
 and alliance. — That they, whom nature 
 chiefly moveth to mutual succor, thus stand- 
 ing together, may help one another. It is a 
 great reproach and dishonesty for the hus- 
 band to come home without his wife, or the 
 wife without her husband, or the son without 
 his father. And therefore if the other part 
 stick so hard by it, chat the battle come to 
 their hands, it is fought with great slaughter 
 and bloodshed, even to the utter destruction 
 of both parties : for as they make all the 
 means and shifts that may be, to keep them- 
 selves from the necessity of fighting, or that 
 they may dispatch the battle by their hired 
 soldiers, so when there is no remedy, but 
 
324 Of War. [b. ei. 
 
 they must needs fight themselves, then they 
 do as courageously fall to it, as before (whilst 
 they might) they did wisely avoid and refuse 
 it. Nor be they most fierce at the first 
 brunt: but in continuance by little and little 
 their fierce courage encreaseth with so stub- 
 born and obstinate minds, that they will 
 rather die than give back an inch. For that 
 surety of living, which every man hath at 
 home, being joined with no careful anxiety 
 or remembrance how their posterity shall 
 live after them, (for this pensiveness often- 
 times breaketh and abateth courageous sto- 
 machs), makes them stout and hardy, and dis- 
 dainful to be conquered.* Moreover, their 
 knowledge in chivalry t and feats of arms 
 
 * Burnet and Warner thus translate this sentence : 
 " For the certainty that their children will be well looked 
 after when they are dead, frees them from all that anxiety 
 concerning them, which often masters men of great cou- 
 rage ; and thus they are animated by a noble and invin- 
 cible resolution." 
 
 f For an interesting account [among the many which 
 may be referred to] of the origin and nature of Tourna- 
 ments, so prominent a feature in chivalry, I recommend 
 the reader to peruse Mr. Ellis's note to "The Three 
 
ch. x.] Of War. 325 
 
 putteth them m a good hope. Finally, the 
 wholesome and virtuous opinions, wherein 
 they were brought up even from their child- 
 hood, partly through learning, and partly 
 through the good ordinance and laws of 
 their weal-public, augment and increase their 
 manful courage. By reason whereof, they 
 neither set so little store by their lives, that 
 they will rashly and unadvisedly cast them 
 away ; nor be they so far in lewd * and fond 
 love therewith, that they will shamefully 
 covet to keep them, when honesty biddeth 
 leave them. 
 
 When the battle is hottest, and in all 
 places most fierce and fervent, a band of 
 chosen and picked young men, which be 
 sworn to live and die together, take upon 
 them to destroy their adversary's captain ; 
 whom they invade now with privy wiles, now 
 by open strength : at him they strike both 
 near and far off: he is assailed with a long and 
 
 Knights and the Smock," in Mr. Way's Fabliaux — vol. ii. 
 p. 184. 
 
 * Idle-~indifferent — stupid. It is frequently used by 
 our old writers in this sense. 
 
326 Of War. [b. ii. 
 
 a continual assault, fresh men still coming in 
 the wearied men's places. And seldom it 
 chanceth (unless he save himself by flying) 
 that he is not either slain or else taken 
 prisoner, and yielded to his enemies alive. 
 If they win the field, they persecute not 
 their enemies with the violent rage of 
 slaughter: for they had rather take them 
 alive than kill them. Neither do they follow 
 the chase and pursuit of their enemies, but 
 they leave behind them one part of their 
 host in battle array, under their standards. 
 Insomuch, that if all their whole army be dis- 
 comfited and overcome, saving the rearward 
 and that they therewith achieve the victory, 
 then they had rather let all their enemies 
 scape, than to follow them out of array ; for 
 they remember it hath chanced unto them- 
 themselves more than once — the whole 
 power and strength of their host being van- 
 quished and put to flight, whilst their ene- 
 mies rejoicing in the victory, have persecuted 
 them, flying some one away and some ano- 
 ther — a small company of their men lying in 
 ambush, there ready at all occasions, have 
 
6H. x.] Of War, 321 
 
 suddenly risen upon them thus dispersed and 
 scattered out of array, and through presump- 
 tion of safety unadvisedly pursuing the chase, 
 have incontinent changed the fortune of the 
 whole battle : and, spite of their teeths, 
 wresting out of their hands the sure and un- 
 doubted victory — being a little before con- 
 quered — have for their part conquered the 
 conquerors. 
 
 It is hard to say whether they be craftier 
 in laying an ambush, or wittier in avoiding 
 the same. You would think they intend to 
 fly, when they mean nothing less. And 
 contrarywise, when they go about that pur- 
 pose you would believe it were the least 
 part of their thought. For if they perceive 
 themselves overmatched in number, or closed 
 in too narrow a place, then they remove their 
 camp either in the night season with silence, 
 or by some policy they deceive their enemies, 
 or in the day time they retire back so softly, 
 that it is no less jeopardy to meddle with 
 them when they give back than when they 
 press on. They fence and fortify their 
 camp surely, with a deep and a broad 
 
328 Of War. [b. ii. 
 
 trench ; the earth thereof is cast inward. 
 Nor do they set drudges and slaves at work 
 about it: it is done by the hands of" the 
 soldiers themselves. All the whole army 
 worketh upon it, except them that keep 
 watch in armour * before the trench for sud- 
 den adventures. Therefore by the labour 
 of so many, a large trench, closing in a great 
 compass of ground, is made in less time than 
 any man would believe. 
 
 Their armour or harness, which they wear, 
 is sure and strong to receive strokes, and 
 handsome for all movings and gestures of 
 the body, insomuch that it is not unwieldy 
 to swim in. For in the discipline of their 
 warfare, among other feats, they learn to 
 swim in harness. Their weapons be arrows 
 aloof, which they shoot both strongly and 
 surely, nor only footmen, but also horsemen. 
 At hand strokes they use not swords, but poll- 
 axes ; which be mortal as well in sharpness 
 as in weight, both for foynes t and down 
 
 * ** Harness"— in the English edit, of 1551. 
 t A thrust, as in fencing ; the word is frequently used 
 by Shakspeare. It means that the weapon has a keen edge 
 
ch. x.] Of War. 329 
 
 strokes. Engines for war they devise 
 and invent wondrous wittily ; which when 
 
 or point to thrust with, and is weighty to make a powerful 
 " down stroke." 
 
 This part of the Utopia is curious, inasmuch as it makes 
 us acquainted with the species of military weapons used 
 by the English at the opening of the l6th century. Dr. 
 Henry informs us, that the weapons and armour of 
 this period were, with little variations, iuch as the famous 
 assize of arms, made by Henry II. A. D. 1181, had ap- 
 pointed. The armour of the cavalry consisted of many 
 different pieces nicely jointed, to allow freedom of motion 
 and exertion of strength : the whole was well tempered, 
 finely polished, and, among the higher orders, often beau- 
 tifully gilt. A shield, of an oval form, wa9 borne on the 
 left arm to ward off the adversary's blows : a long spear, 
 or lance, made of light and strong wood, and pointed with 
 sharp and strong steel — a long and broad sword, double 
 edged and sharp pointed, and a short dirk or dagger — these 
 formed the offensive weapons. The horses of the princes 
 or barons were sometimes clad in complete armour of 
 steel or iron ; so that a knight, thus equipped, was almost 
 invulnerable. 
 
 Of the infantry, the defensive armour of a man at 
 arms was a coat of mail, a helmet, and a shield — the of- 
 fensive weapons, a spear and a sword; the defensive armour 
 of an ordinary foot soldier was a wambois, or jacket twilted 
 with cotton, and an iron scull-cap — his offensive arms, a 
 spear, or a bow and arrows, or a sling, with a sword. Men 
 u u 
 
330 Of War. [b. ii. 
 
 they be made, they keep very secret, lest if 
 they should be known before need require, 
 
 at arms, where prowess was most conspicuous, held the 
 highest estimation; but the strength of the army consisted 
 in the archers — who, about this period, were rendered 
 more formidable by the addition of halberts, which they 
 pitched on the ground till their arrows were exhausted, and 
 with which they resisted the impression of the cavalry. See 
 Henry's Hist, of Gr. Br. vol. vi. 193. 204. vol. xii. 283. 
 
 It was not till three years after the publication of the 
 Utopia, that the musket was discharged from the shoulder : 
 it being first employed in 1521, at the siege of Parma — 
 and was probably soon afterwards introduced into England. 
 Roger Ascham, who wrote his truly curious book on 
 archery, [called " Toxophilus,"] in the year 1544, seems 
 to allude to the musket in the opening of his prefatory 
 address " To the Gentlemen and Yomen of Englande:" it 
 is, at least, certain that this weapon was used in England 
 before the Toxophilus was published, [A. D. 1571.] al- 
 though Dr. Johnson, in the life of Ascham, prefixed to 
 Bennet's edition of Ascham's works in 1762, p. vi. seems 
 to doubt it. It would appear, however, that as early as 
 the year 1563, the practice of shooting with the bow had 
 in a great measure ceased : — " If but two or three noble 
 men in the court," says Ascham, " wold butbegi/inetoshoote, 
 all young jentlemen, the whole court, all London, the whole 
 realme, wold straightwaie exercise shooting." Schoolmaster, 
 p. 244. Bennet's edit. * In the reignof James 1. the boxv was 
 
 " * There died about 300, most of them shot with ar- 
 
ch. x.] Of War. 331 
 
 they should be but laughed at, and serve to 
 no purpose. But in making them here- 
 
 wholly disused — " though it was ihe weapon," says John- 
 son, " by which we gained the battle of Agincourt; and 
 which, when handled by English yeomen, no foreign troops 
 were able to resist." Preface to Toxophilus. 
 
 From a note in Mr. Walter Scott's " Minstrelsy of the 
 Scottish Border," it appears that the Scots, towards the 
 close of the sixteenth century, " had chiefly Jire arms: 
 the English retaining still their partiality for their ancient 
 weapon, the long bow. It also appears, by a letter from the 
 Duke of Norfolk to Cecil, that the English borderers were 
 unskilful in fire arms, or as he says, " our countrymen be 
 not so connyng with shots as I woolde wishe." See vol. i. 
 
 rows, which were reported to be of the length of a taylor's 
 yard ; so strong and mighty a bow the Cornishmen were 
 said to draw." Lord Bacon's Henry VII. p. 171. edit. 1641. 
 
 " What though with our 12,000, or 15,000, we have 
 oft defeated their armies of 50,000, or 6*0,000 — stands it 
 with reason of war to expect the like success still? especi- 
 ally since the use of arms is changed, and for the bow, 
 proper for men of our strength, the caliver begins to be 
 generally revived !" Lord Herbert's Hen. VIII. p. 18. edit. 
 1649.. " While he that carries the caliver goes unarmed, 
 the arrow will have the same effect within its distance as 
 the bullet, and can for one shot return two." Ibid. p. 55. 
 
 See the " Extracts from Books subsequent to the date of 
 Toxophilus," prefixed to the neat little edition of this latter 
 work by the Rev. John Walters, M. A. Wrexham, 1788. 
 8vo. 
 
332 Of War. [b. ii. 
 
 unto, they have chief respect tiiat they be 
 both easy to be carried, and handsome to 
 be moved and turned about. 
 
 p. 169, of this amusing collection of ancient historical 
 poetry. 
 
 There is a remarkable passage in the description of Eng- 
 land, by Harrison, prefixed to Holinshed's Chronicle, 1587, 
 which proves how much the use of the bow had declined 
 towards the end of the l6th century. " In times past," 
 says Harrison, the cheefe force of England consisted in their 
 long bowes. But now we have in maner generallie given 
 over that kind of artillerie, and certes, the Frenchmen 
 and Rutters * deriding our new archerie in respect of 
 their corslets, will not let in open skirmish, if anie 
 leisure serve, to turn up their tails, and crie " Shoote 
 English !" — and all because our strong shooting is decaied 
 and laid in bed. But if some of our Englishmen now 
 lived, that served king Edward the III. in his warres with 
 France, the breech of such a varlet should have been 
 nailed to his b — m with one arrow, and another fethered 
 in his bowels, before he should have turned about to see 
 who shot the first." p. 198. f Bishop Latimer, in his sixth 
 sermon before K. Edward VI. gives an interesting account 
 how the sons of yeoman were, in his infancy, trained up to 
 
 * Rutters or Reistres were German horse; brought into 
 France during the regency of Cath. de Medicis. So named 
 from the German Reuter, a horseman or trooper, 
 
 f Patritius, who wrote on the reign of James I. tells us 
 " that an English arrowe with an little waxe put upon the 
 
ch. x.] Of War. 333 
 
 Truce taken with their enemies for a short 
 time, they do so firmly and faithfully keep, 
 that they will not break it, no not though 
 they be thereunto provoked. They do not 
 waste nor destroy their enemies land with 
 forragings, nor they burn not up their corn. 
 Yea, they save it as much as may be from 
 being over-run and trodden down, either with 
 men or horses, thinking that it groweth for 
 their own use and profit. They hurt no 
 man that is unarmed, unless he be an espyal.* 
 
 the bow. See Ritson's Robin Hood. Lond. 8vo. 1795, 
 vol. i. p. xxxviii. — perhaps the most curious and amus- 
 ing production which that eccentric but erudite eng- 
 lish antiquary ever published. Ritson says that " it may 
 be still a question whether a body of expert archers would 
 not, even at this day, be superior to an equal number 
 armed with muskets." p. xxxvii. 
 * Spy. The word is used by Chaucer, 
 
 " For subtilly he had his espiaille." 
 See Steevens's note in the Shakspeare edition of 1 803. vol. 
 
 point of the head, would passe through any ordinary cors- 
 lette or curace." Afterwards, he adds, " all the wonders 
 done by the Parthian bowes, were notwithstanding not to 
 be compared to our ancient English bowes, either for 
 strength, or for shooting." Strutt's Manners and Customs 
 of the English, vol. ii. 40. 
 
334 Of War. [b. ii. 
 
 All cities that be yielded unto them, they 
 defend; and such as they win by force of 
 assault, they neither despoil nor sack ; but 
 them that withstood and dissuaded the yield- 
 ing up of the same, they put to death : the 
 other soldiers they punish with bondage. 
 All the weak multitude they leave untouched. 
 If they know that any citizens counselled to 
 yield and render up the city, to them they 
 part of the condemned men's goods: the re- 
 sidue they distribute and give freely among 
 them whose help they had in the same war : 
 for none of themselves taketh any portion 
 of the prey. But when the battle is finished 
 and ended, they put their friends to never 
 a penny cost of all the charge that they 
 were at, but lay it upon their necks that 
 be conquered. Them they burthen with 
 the whole charge of their expenses, which 
 they demand of them partly in money, to 
 be kept for the use of battle — and partly in 
 lands of great revenues, to be paid unto them 
 yearly for ever. Such revenues they have now 
 
 xiii. 32. xviii. l65. Mr. Malone tells us it is used like- 
 wise by Hall and Holinshed. 
 
ch. x.] Of War. 335 
 
 in many countries ; which by little and little 
 rising of divers and sundry causes, be in* 
 creased above seven hundred thousand du- 
 cats by the year. Thither they send forth 
 some of their citizens as lieutenants, to live 
 there sumptuously, like men of honour and 
 renown. And yet this notwithstanding, 
 much money is saved, which cometh to the 
 common treasury : unless it so chance that 
 they had rather trust the country with the 
 money ; which many times they do so long, 
 until they have need to occupy it ; and it 
 seldom happeneth that they demand all. 
 Of these lands they assign part unto them, 
 which at their request and exhortation, put 
 themselves in such jeopardy as I spake of 
 before. If any prince stir up war against 
 them, intending to invade their land, they 
 meet him incontinent out of their own bor- 
 ders with great power and strength. For 
 they never lightly make war in their own 
 country. Nor be they even brought into so 
 extreme necessity, as to take help out of 
 foreign lands into their own island. 
 
[ 336 ] [b. ii. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 4 
 
 Of Religion. 
 
 Ihere be divers kinds of religion, not 
 only in sundry parts of the island, but also 
 in divers places of every city. Some worship 
 for God, the Sun ; some the Moon ; some 
 other of the planets. + There be that give 
 worship to a man that was once of excellent 
 
 * The reader will smile at the French paraphrastic 
 translation of the above passage, which in the English is as 
 short and concise as the original Latin. 
 
 " Ce n'est pas seulement dans l'ile en general que le 
 culte Divin est' bigarre, c'est aussi chez toutes les parties 
 de la nation. La croiance religieuse ne sauroit etre plus 
 partagee, ni la foi pieuse plus sujette a controversie. 
 Chaque ville a son Dieu. L'une se prosternc et fait ses 
 devotions devant hjlambeau de l'Univers } astre dit vul- 
 gairement le Soleil: V autre recite sesheures devant la Lune, 
 et invoque cette belle et argentine Phebe, de qui la Gent 
 poetique a rive tant de belles choses daiis son insemnie 
 ordinaire. Telle ville fete et chomme une autre Planete 
 &c. — but enough has been extracted to shew the occasion- 
 ally rambling style of the Amst. edit, of 1730. 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion 337 
 
 virtue or of famous glory, not only as God, 
 but also as the chiefest and highest God. 
 But* the most and the wisest part (reject- 
 ing all these) believe, that there is a certain 
 godly power, unknown, everlasting, incom- 
 prehensible, inexplicable, far above the ca- 
 pacity and reach of man's wit, dispersed 
 throughout all the whole world, not in big- 
 ness, but in virtue and power. Him they 
 call the father of all. To him alone they 
 attribute the beginnings, the increasings, the 
 proceedings, the changes, and the ends of 
 all things. Neither they give any divine 
 honours to any other than to him ; yea all 
 the other also, though they be in divers opi- 
 nions, yet in this point they agree altogether 
 
 * The above may be considered a fine and faithful trans- 
 lation of the beautiful passage in the original Latin. " At 
 multo maxima pars, eademque longe prudentior, nihil 
 horum, sed unum quoddam numen putant, incognitura, 
 oeternum, immensum, inexplicabile ; quod supra mentis 
 humanae captum sit, per mundum hunc uui versum, virtute, 
 non mole, diffusum : hunc parentem vocant. Origines, 
 auctus, progressus, vices, finesque rerum omnium, huic 
 acceptos uni referunt, nee divinos honores alii praeterea 
 .ulli applicant." 
 
 X X 
 
338 Of Religion. [&. n. 
 
 with the wisest sort, in believing that there is 
 one principal God, the maker and ruler of 
 the whole world : whom they all commonly, 
 in their country language, call Mythra.* 
 But in this they disagree, that among some 
 he is counted one, and among some, ano- 
 ther : for every one of them, whatsoever 
 that is which he taketh for the chief God, 
 thinketh it to be the very same nature : to 
 whose only divine might and majesty, the 
 sum and sovereignty of all things : by the 
 consent of all people, is attributed and given. 
 Howbeit, they all begin by little and little to 
 forsake and fall from this variety of super- 
 stitions, and to agree together in that religion 
 which seemeth by reason to pass and excel 
 
 * Mithra is the name under which the ancient Persians 
 worshipped the Sun. The word was also applied to the tem- 
 ples of worship, formed of rock, or caverns. Porphyry 
 assures us, says Bryant, that the deity had always a rock, 
 or cavern for his temple ; that people in all places where the 
 name of Mithras was known, paid their worship at a 
 cavern. Some make a distinction between Mithras, 
 Mithres, and Mithra, but they were all the same deity, 
 the Sun ; esteemed the chief god of the Persians. An- 
 cient Mythology, vol. ii. 223 — 230. 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 339 
 
 the residue. And it is not to be doubted 
 but all the other would long ago have been 
 abolished, but that whatsoever unprosperous 
 thing happened to any of them, as he was 
 minded to change his religion, the fearful- 
 ness of people did take it, not as a thing 
 coming by chance, but as sent from God out 
 of heaven. As though the God, whose 
 honour he was forsaking, would have re- 
 venged that wicked purpose against him. 
 
 But after they heard us speak of the name 
 of Christ, of his doctrine, laws, miracles, 
 and of the no less wonderful constancy of so 
 many martyrs, whose blood willingly shed 
 brought a great number of nations through- 
 out all parts of the world into their sect — 
 you will not believe with how glad minds 
 they agreed unto the same ! whether it were 
 by the secret inspiration of God, or else for 
 that they thought it nighest unto that opi- 
 nion, which among them is counted the 
 chiefest. Howbeit, I think this was no small 
 help and furtherance in the matter that they 
 heard us say, that Christ instituted among 
 his, all things common: and that the same 
 
340 Of Religion. [b. ii. 
 
 community doth yet remain amongst the 
 Tightest Christian companies. Verily how- 
 soever it came to pass, many of them con- 
 sented together in our religion, and were 
 washed in the holy water of baptism. But 
 because among us four (for no more of us 
 was left alive, two of our company being 
 dead) there was no priest — which I am 
 right sorry for — they being entered and in- 
 structed in all other points of our religion, 
 lack only those sacraments, which none but 
 priests do minister. Howbeit, they under- 
 stand and perceive them, and be very desi- 
 rous of the same. Yea, they reason and dis- 
 pute the matter earnestly among themselves, 
 whether, without the sending of a Christian 
 bishop, one chosen out of their own people, 
 may receive the order of priesthood. And 
 truly they were minded to choose one. But 
 at my departure thence they had chosen 
 none. 
 
 They also which do not agree to Christ's 
 religion, fear * no man from it, nor speak 
 
 * " Neminem tamen absterrcnt" — " Deter no man 
 from it." 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 341 
 
 against any man that hath received it, saving 
 that one of our company in my presence 
 was sharply punished. — He, as soon as he 
 was baptised, began against our wills, with 
 more earnest affection than wisdom, to rea- 
 son of Christ's religion : and began to wax 
 so hot in this matter, that he did not only 
 prefer our religion before all other, but also 
 did utterly despise and condemn all other — 
 calling them prophane, and the followers of 
 them wicked and devilish, and the children 
 of everlasting damnation ! When he had 
 thus long reasoned the matter, they laid 
 hold on him, accused him, and condemned 
 him into exile; not as a despiser of religion, 
 but as a seditious person, and a raiser up of 
 dissension among the people. For this is 
 one of the ancientest'laws among them : that 
 no man shall be blamed for reasoning in the 
 maintenance of his own religion.* For king 
 
 * " It is plain that when our author wrote this historv 
 he had not any bigotry and fiery zeal in his composition* 
 But afterwards, some how or other, he became devoted to 
 the passions and interest of the popish clergy to a degree 
 of superstition : and even then, however, it must be con- 
 
342 Of Religion. [b. it. 
 
 Utopus, even at the first beginning, hearing 
 that the inhabitants of the land were, before 
 
 fessed that his zeal carried him rather against the sedition 
 which many ran into who favoured the Reformation, than 
 against the doctrines which were taught. For as much 
 attached as he was to the church of Rome, yet he was not 
 so extravagant in his notions of the papal power as some 
 others were : and his friend Erasmus said of him, ' that 
 though he hated the seditious tenets with which the world 
 was then miserably disturbed, yet it was a sufficient argu- 
 ment of his moderation, that whilst he was Lord Chancellor, 
 no person was put to death for his disapproved opinion.' " 
 
 Warner. 
 Nothing can afford a clearer proof of the liberality 
 of thinking, in matters of religion, displayed by More 
 in his early years, than the above sentiments. Pro- 
 bably he was not yet so rigid in his Catholic opinions, as he 
 afterwards appears to have been ; but whatever was his rigi- 
 dity, and however severe and scurrilous even (for in his con- 
 troversial tracts, he made use of such terms as to procure for 
 him " the reputation of having the best knack of any man 
 in Europe, at calling bad names in good Latin") — however 
 severe or scurrilous might have been some of his theolo- 
 gical treatises, I cannot believe the idle stories which are 
 told of him, when Lord Chancellor, of whipping and putting 
 to death certain of the Reformers. The only authorities are 
 Burnet and Fox ; the former of whom relies upon the lat- 
 ter. Fox, though an honest and excellent character, was 
 a warm zealot ; and the inference to be drawn is, not that 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 343 
 
 his coming thither, at continual dissension 
 and strife among themselves for their reli- 
 
 More was right in being a Catholic, and Fox wrong in being 
 a Protestant, but that the evidence of warm and zealous 
 partisans should, in all cases, be received with caution. 
 The general tenor of narrative and argument adopted by 
 all More's professed biographers, and the solemn testimony 
 of Erasmus, discountenance even a supposition of the above 
 cruelties. The complete refutation which our author 
 gave to the ridiculous accusations brought against him 
 concerning the Nun of Canterbury, and the receiving of 
 a gold cup, by way of bribe, are at once instances of the 
 blind malevolence of party, and the triumph of inno- 
 cence. 
 
 More's conduct towards his son-in-law Roper, who dif- 
 fered from him in religious principles, and was probably a 
 Lutheran, (what Stapleton calls a heretic), redounds 
 highly to the former's credit. u More frequently and 
 seriously conversed with him on the subject of his religion ; 
 but finding his arguments ineffectual, said to him, " I will 
 no longer dispute with you— I will pray to God for you !" 
 The consequence was, that, within a few days afterwards, 
 Roper voluntarily confessed to his wife that he was become 
 a convert to the catholic religion." — Stapleton, Vit. Mori, 
 p. 89> When therefore Mr. Burnett, in his " Specimens 
 of English Prose Writers," vol. i. 391, says that More's 
 " aversion to heterodoxy [by which he means Protestan- 
 tism] was so implacable, that few inquisitors have sur- 
 passed him in their persecutions of heresy" — it must be 
 
S44 Of Religion. [b. ii. 
 
 gions — perceiving also that this common dis- 
 sension (whilst every several sect took several 
 parts in fighting for their country) was the 
 only occasion of his conquest over them all 
 
 confessed that he appears to have delivered his sentiments 
 rather from the warmth of feeling, than from the authority 
 of historical evidence. Who would not suppose, from 
 such an observation, that More had been a Bonner ? 
 
 It cannot be dissembled that the warmth of More's 
 piety [" verae pietatis non indiligens cultor, etiamsi ab 
 omni superstitione alienissimus," says Erasmus, Ep. 437.] 
 received an unfortunate bias as he grew older ; and that 
 his early freedom of religious sentiment was, probably, a 
 source of uneasiness to him when he became more closely 
 allied to the church of Rome. The earnestness with which, 
 in his letters, he exhorts Erasmus to retract his former opi- 
 nions, and in future to be more circumspect in propagating 
 them, shews strongly that he was at last most zealously de- 
 voted to the interests of Catholicism. But the sincerity and 
 
 armth of a men's private opinion in religious matters, and 
 heenforcing of that opinion upon others, are quite different 
 /hings. That More's religious creed was such as every en- 
 lightened Protestant must condemn, cannot be doubted — 
 and that his writings in support of the same are at once 
 dull and acrimonious, must also be admitted : my object is 
 not to defend the religious principles of More, but to 
 shew that he was far from being inquisitorial in causing 
 others to embrace them. 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 345 
 
 — as soon as he had gotten the victory — first 
 of all, he made a decree, that it should be 
 lawful for every man to favour and follow 
 what religion he would ; and that he might 
 do the best he could to bring other to his 
 opinion, so that he did it peaceably, gently, 
 quietly, and soberly ; without hasty and con- 
 tentious rebuking and inveighing against 
 other. If he could not by fair and gentle 
 speech induce them unto his opinion, yet he 
 should use no kind of violence, and refrain 
 from displeasant and seditious words. To 
 him that would vehemently and fervently in 
 this cause strive and contend, was decreed 
 banishment or bondage. 
 
 This law did kingUTOPUS make, not only 
 for the maintenance of peace, which he saw 
 through continual contentation and mortal 
 hatred, utterly extinguished ; but also be- 
 cause he thought this decree should make for 
 the furtherance of religion. Whereof he 
 durst define and determine nothing unad- 
 visedly, as doubting whether God, desiring 
 manifold and divers sorts of honour, would 
 
 inspire sundry men with sundry kinds of 
 Y y 
 
346 Of Religion. [l. II. 
 
 religion. And this surely he thought a very 
 unmeet and foolish thing, and a point of 
 arrogant presumption, to compel all other by 
 violence and threatenings to agree to the 
 same that thou believest to be true. Fur- 
 thermore, though there be one religion, 
 which alone is true, and all other vain and 
 superstitious, yet did he well foresee (so that 
 the matter were handled with reason and 
 sober modesty), that the truth of the one 
 power would at the last issue out and come 
 to light. But if contention and debate in 
 that behalf should continually be used — as 
 the worst men be most obstinate and stubborn, 
 and in their evil opinion most constant — he 
 perceived that then the best and holiest reli- 
 gion would be trodden under foot, and de- 
 stroyed by most vain superstitions ; even as 
 corn is by thorns and weeds overgrown and 
 choaked. Therefore all this matter he left 
 undiscussed, and gave to every man free 
 liberty and choice to believe what he would. 
 Saving that he earnestly and straightly 
 charged them, that no man should conceive 
 so vile and base an opinion of the dignity of 
 
ch.xi.] Of Religion. 347 
 
 man's nature, as to think that the souls do 
 die and perish with the body : or that the 
 world runneth at all adventures governed by 
 no divine providence. And therefore they 
 believe that after this life, vices be extremely 
 punished, and virtues bountifully rewarded. 
 Him that is of a contrary opinion, they count 
 not in the number of men — as one that hath 
 availed the high nature of his soul to the 
 vileness of brute beasts bodies *: much less in 
 
 * More has well described dissipated and immoral cha- 
 racters in his " Thyrde Booke of Coraforte agaynst Tribu- 
 lation." " Howbeit" (says he) " some things are there 
 in scripture expressed in the manner of the pleasures and 
 joys that we shall have in heaven ; as where " righteous 
 men shall shine as the sun, and shall run about like 
 sparkles of fire among reeds." Now, tell some carnal- 
 minded man of this manner of pleasure, and he shall take 
 little pleasure therein ; and say, he careth not to have his 
 flesh shine, he ! — nor like a spark of fire, to skip about in 
 the sky. Tell him that his body shall be impassible, and 
 never feel harm — yet, if he thinks then therewith that he 
 shall never be an hungred nor a thirst, and shall thereby 
 forbear all his pleasure of eating and drinking, and that 
 he shall never have list to sleep, and thereby lose the 
 pleasure that he was wont to take in slugging — and that 
 men and women shall there live together as angels, without 
 
348 Of Religion. [b. ii. 
 
 the number of the citizens — whose laws and 
 ordinances, if it were not for fear, he would 
 nothing at all esteem. For you may be sure 
 he will study either with craft privily to 
 mock, or else violently to break the common 
 laws of his country, in whom remaineth no 
 further fear than of the laws, nor no further 
 hope than of the body. Wherefore he that 
 is thus minded is deprived of all honours, 
 excluded from all offices, and rejected from 
 all common administrations in the weal- 
 public. 
 
 And thus he is of all sorts despised, as 
 of an unprofitable and of a base and 
 vile nature. Howbeit, they put him to no 
 punishment, because they be persuaded that 
 it is in no man's power to believe what he 
 list. No, nor they constrain him not with 
 threatenings to dissemble his mind, and shew 
 countenance contrary to his thought. For 
 
 any manner, mind, or motion unto the carnal act of ge- 
 neration, and that he shall thereby not use there his old 
 filthy voluptuous fashion — he will say, he is better at ease 
 already ! and would not give this world for that !" More's 
 Works, edit. 1557, p. 1258. E. F. 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 349 
 
 deceit ano! falsehood, and all manner of lies, 
 as next unto fraud, they do marvellously 
 reject and abhor. But they suffer him not 
 to dispute in his opinion, and that only 
 among the common people. For else apart, 
 among the priests and men of gravity, they 
 do not only suffer but also exhort him to 
 dispute and argue ; hoping that at the last, 
 madness will give place to reason. There 
 be also other, and of them no small number, 
 which be not bidden to speak their minds, 
 as grounding their opinion upon some reason, 
 being in their living neither evil nor vicious. 
 Their heresy is much contrary to the other : 
 for they believe that the souls of the brute 
 beasts be immortal and everlasting. But 
 nothing to be compared with others in dig- 
 nity, neither ordained and predestinate to 
 like felicity. For all they believe certainly 
 and surely that man's bliss shall be so great, 
 that they do mourn and lament every man's 
 sickness, but no man's death ; unless it be 
 one whom they see depart from his life 
 carefully and against his will. For this 
 they take for a very evil token, as though 
 
350 Of Religion. [b. ii. 
 
 the soul being in despair, and vexed in con- 
 science, through some privy and secret fore- 
 feeling of the punishment now at hand, were 
 afraid to depart. And they think he shall 
 not be welcome to God, which, when he is 
 called, runneth not to him gladly, but is 
 drawn by force, and sore against his will. 
 They therefore that see this kind of death, 
 do abhor it ; and them that so die, they 
 bury with sorrow and silence.* And when 
 
 * In More's " Treatise upon the Passion," are the fol- 
 lowing strong and serious observations upon a.Jit prepara- 
 tion for death. u When death cometh, the dreadful 
 mighty messenger of God, there can no king command 
 him ; there can none authority strain him ; there can no 
 riches hire him to tarry past his appointed time, one 
 moment of an hour ? Therefore, let us consider well in 
 time, what words we be bounden to speak, and what deeds 
 we be bounden to do ; and say them, and do them apace : 
 and leave unsaid, and undone, all superfluous things, and 
 much more, all damnable things — witting well, that we 
 have no void time allowed us thereunto. For the day 
 of our Lord shall steal on us like a thief, and we wot not 
 when he will come, whether in the morning, or in the mid- 
 day, or in the evening, or^at the mid night." 
 
 " And God give us all the grace so to do all our business 
 in time ; that we spend not our time in vanities, or worse 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 351 
 
 they have prayed to God to be merciful to 
 pardon the infirmities thereof, they cover the 
 dead corpse with earth.* 
 
 than vanities, while we be in health ; and drive off the 
 things of substance, that we should do, till we lie in our 
 death-bed — where we shall have so many things to do at 
 once, and every thing so unready, that every finger shall 
 be a thumb, and we shall fumble it up in haste so un- 
 handsomely, that we may hap, but if God help the better, 
 to leave more than half undone." Ibid. fol. 1298. H. fol. 
 
 1299. c. 
 
 * The reader will probably forgive me for introducing to 
 his notice the following beautiful and original passage", 
 from Bullein on the subject of life and death: (of which, 
 as in the preceding extracts from More, the orthography is 
 modernised :) "After the day, followeth the night ; and after 
 life, approacheth most fearful death, the end of all things : 
 and these have their tokens and signs before them. As 
 when the day passeth away, it is manifest to every crea- 
 ture the sun withdraweth his excellent light, drawing home 
 his beams from us, hiding himself; or, through his swift 
 course in his circle, the dark unmovable earth doth take 
 from our eyes the benefits of his brightness, and, eftsoones, 
 it is called no more day, but night, and the time of silence 
 and darkness ! Even so, when the spirits of life have worn 
 their vessels or instruments, or, when the gross humour of 
 melancholy, or earthly complexion, with extreme cold, 
 hath convinced [conquered], quenched, and with force 
 overcome the warm moistness, and vital-living well-spring 
 
352 Of Religion. [b ii. 
 
 Contrarywise, all that depart merrily and 
 full of good hope: for then no man mourneth, 
 but followeth the hearse with joyful singing, 
 commending the souls to God with great 
 affection. And at the last, not with mourn- 
 ing sorrow, but with a great reverence, they 
 burn the bodies. And in the same place 
 they set up a pillar of stone, with the dead 
 men's titles therein graved. When they be 
 come home, they rehearse his virtuous man- 
 ners and his good deeds. But no part of his 
 life is so oft or gladly talked of, as his merry 
 death.* They think that this remembrance 
 
 of the blood, the fountain of life — then, the body and soul 
 wax weary of each other : or, when they fall to division, 
 or begin to be at debate within themselves, then they 
 never cease until they do come to utter dissolution — for 
 things, with themselves being at debate, shall quickly be 
 dissolved, whether it be a public-wealth, or a private 
 body." — Bulwarke of Defence, &c. pt. iv. fol. 30. 
 
 In Strutt's amusing " Manners and Customs of the Eng- 
 lish," vol. iii. p. l6l, may be seen ** The maner of orderinge 
 of every man, at the setting forthe of a corps, and how they 
 shall goe, after their estate and degree." From a Cotton 
 MS. Tiberius, E. viii. in which, of course, no mention is 
 made of the Utopian custom of burning the body. 
 
 * More evinced, in his own conduct, a perfect illustration 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion, 353 
 
 of the virtue and goodness of the dead, doth 
 vehemently provoke and enforce the living 
 to virtue ; and that nothing can be more 
 pleasant and acceptable to the dead ; whom 
 
 of the doctrine which he here lays down : and his departure 
 from this world was, in every respect, consistent with his 
 uniform declarations upon the subject, and worthy of his 
 high character. No man, in ancient or modern times, was 
 ever less appalled at the prospect of death, and that, too, 
 a premature and cruel one ! 
 
 When the unjust sentence of execution was passed, and 
 the eyes of all the spectators, suffused with tears, were fixed 
 upon him, he thus addressed his judges with the utmost 
 composure — " I have nothing," says he, u to say, my Lords, 
 but that, like as the blessed Apostle St. Paul was present 
 and consented to the death of Stephen, and kept their 
 clothes who stoned him to death, and yet be they now both 
 twain holy saints in heaven, and shall continue there friends 
 for ever — so I verily trust and shall heartily pray, that 
 though your Lordships have now been judges upon earth to 
 my condemnation, we may yet hereafter all meet toge- 
 ther in heaven to cur everlasting salvation. And so I pray 
 God preserve you all, and especially my Sovereign Lord 
 the King, and send him faithful counsellors." 
 
 The remainder of his conduct, till the moment of his 
 
 dissolution, displayed equal calmness and fortitude. — M On 
 
 the 5th of July, 1535, Sir Thomas Pope, his intimate 
 
 friend, came to him from the king very early in the morn- 
 
 z z 
 
354 Of Religion. [b. n. 
 
 they suppose to be present among them, 
 when they talk of them, though to the dull 
 
 ing, to acquaint him that he should be executed that day 
 at nine o'clock, and therefore that he must immediately 
 prepare himself for death." 
 
 u As soon as Sir Thomas left him, he drest himself in the 
 best clothes he had ; that his appearance might express the 
 ease and complacency which he felt within. The Lieu- 
 tenant of the Tower objecting to this generosity to his exe- 
 cutioner, who was to have his clothes, Sir Thomas assured 
 him, ** if it was cloth of gold, he should think it well be- 
 stowed on him who was to do him so singular a benefit." 
 But the Lieutenant, who was his friend, pressing him very 
 much to change his dress, and Sir Thomas being very un- 
 willing to deny him so small a gratification, put on a gown 
 of freeze ; and of the little money that he had left, sent an 
 angel in gold to the executioner, as a token of his good 
 will. About nine o'clock, he . was brought out of the 
 Tower, and led to the place of execution : but observing 
 when he came to the scaffold, that it was so weakly built 
 it was ready to fall down, he turned about and said with his 
 usual gaiety, ' I pray you Mr. Lieutenant see me safe up, 
 and for my coming down let me shift for myself!' A% 
 soon as he had ascended it, he desired all the people to 
 pray for him, and to bear witness with him, ' that he 
 should then suffer death, in and for the faith of the holy 
 catholic church, a faithful servant both of God and the 
 king.' Having said this, he kneeled down to his prayers ; 
 and when he had made an end, he addressed himself to the 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 355 
 
 and feeble eye sight of mortal men they 
 be invisible. For it were an inconvenient 
 
 executioner, with as much vivacity and chearfulness in his 
 countenance as he had ever shewn in his happiest hours ; 
 saying, ' pluck up thy spirits man, and be not afraid to do 
 thine office : my neck is very short ; take heed therefore 
 thou strike not awry for saving thine honesty.' When 
 the executioner would have covered his eyes, he told 
 him he would do that himself; which he did imme- 
 diately with a cloth he had brought with him for that pur- 
 pose. Then kneeling down, and laying his head upon the 
 block, to receive the stroke, he bade the executioner stay 
 till he had removed his beard — for that, said he, ' has never 
 committed any treason.' At one blow of the axe his head 
 was severed from his body. " Warner's Life, p. 145,6,7. 
 " That innocent mirth," says Addison, " which had been 
 so conspicuous in his life, did not forsake him to the last. 
 He maintained the same cheerfulness of heart upon the 
 scaffold, which he used to shew at his table ; and, upon 
 laying his head upon the block, gave instances of that good 
 humour with which he had always entertained his friends, 
 in the most ordinary occurrences. His death was of a 
 piece with his life. There was nothing in it new, forced, 
 or affected. He did not look upon the severing of his head 
 from his body as a circumstance that ought to produce any 
 change in the disposition of his mind : and as he died 
 under a fixed and settled hope of immortality, he thought 
 any unusual degree of sorrow or concern improper on such 
 an occasion, as had nothing in it which could deject or 
 
356 Of Religion, [b. ii. 
 
 thing that the blessed should not be at 
 liberty to go whither they would. And it 
 were a point of great unkindness in them, 
 to have utterly cast away the desire of visit- 
 ing and seeing their friends, to whom they 
 were in their life time joined by mutual love 
 and amity. Which, in good men after their 
 death, they count to be rather increased than 
 diminished. They believe therefore that the 
 dead be presently conversant among the 
 quick, as beholders and witnesses of all their 
 words and deeds. Therefore they go more 
 courageously to their business, as having 
 a trust and affiance in such overseers. And 
 this belief of the present conversation of 
 
 terrify him." "What," continues Addison, "was philosophy 
 in this extraordinary man, would be frenzy in one who 
 does not resemble him, as well in the cheerfulness of his 
 temper, as in the sanctity of his life and manners." — Spec- 
 tator. No. 349. 
 
 " Moue is dead !" says Erasmus, in the accents of 
 despondency — " More, whose breast was purer than snow, 
 whose genius was excellent above all his nation !" — Pref. 
 to Ecclesiastes, quoted in Macdiarmid's Lives of British 
 Statesmen, p. 117. 
 
 More's great-grandson has devoted the 12th chapter of 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 357 
 
 their forefathers and ancestors among them, 
 feareth them from all secret dishonesty. 
 
 They utterly despise and mock sooth-say- 
 ings, and divinations of things to come, by 
 the flight and voices of birds, and all other 
 divination of vain superstition, which in 
 other countries be in great observation. But 
 they highly esteem and worship miracles 
 that come by no help of nature, as works and 
 witnesses of the present power of God. 
 And such they say do chance there very 
 often. And sometimes in great and doubtful 
 matters, by common intercession and prayers, 
 they procure and obtain them with a sure 
 hope and confidence, and a steadfast belief. 
 
 They think that the contemplation of na- 
 ture, and the praise thereof coming, is to 
 God a very acceptable honour; yet there be 
 many so earnestly bent and affected to reli- 
 gion, that they pass nothing for learning, nor 
 give their minds to any knowledge of things. 
 
 his Life of Sir Thomas, to an account of the effect produced 
 on the minds of the most eminent men of the times, by the 
 execution of his great-grandfather. The catastrophe of 
 More seems, indeed, to have electrified Europe ! 
 
358 Of Religion. [b. ii. 
 
 But idleness they utterly forsake and eschew ; 
 thinking felicity after this life to be gotten 
 and obtained by busy labour and good exer- 
 cises. Some therefore of them attend upon 
 the sick, some amend highways, cleanse 
 ditches, repair bridges, dig turfs, gravel, 
 and stone ; fell and cleave wood, bring wood, 
 corn, and other things, into the cities in 
 carts, and serve not only in common works, 
 but also in private labours, as servants : yea, 
 more than bondmen. For whatsoever un- 
 pleasant, hard, and vile work is any where, 
 from the which, labour, loathsomeness, and 
 desperation doth fray * other, all that they 
 take upon them willingly and gladly: pro- 
 curing rest and quiet to other, remaining in 
 continual work and labour themselves, not 
 imbraiding t others therewith. They nei- 
 ther reprove other men's lives, nor glory 
 in their own. These men, the more service- 
 able they behave themselves, the more they 
 be honoured of all men ; yet they be divided 
 into two sects : the one of them that live 
 single and chaste, abstaining not only from 
 
 * Frighten, deter. f Upbraiding. 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 359 
 
 the company of women, but also from eating 
 of flesh, and some of them from all manner 
 of beasts : which, utterly rejecting the plea- 
 sures of this present life as hurtful, be 
 all wholly set upon the desire of this life 
 to come, by watching, waiting, and sweat- 
 ing ;* hoping shortly to obtain it, being in the 
 mean season merry and lusty. The other 
 sect is no less desirous of labour, but they 
 embrace matrimony, not despising the solace 
 thereof: thinking that they cannot be dis- 
 charged of their bounden duties toward na- 
 ture without labour and toil ; nor towards 
 their native country, without procreation of 
 children. They abstain from no pleasure 
 that doth nothing himself hinder them from 
 labour. They love the flesh of four-footed 
 beasts, because they believe that by the meat 
 they be made hardy and stronger to work. 
 The Utopians count this sect the wiser, but 
 the other the holier : which, in that they 
 prefer single life before matrimony, and that 
 sharp life before the easier life — if herein 
 
 * Toiling. " [Vitas] futurae duntaxat per vigilias ac 
 mdores inhiant, &c." 6ays More. 
 
360 Of Religion. [b. ii. 
 
 they ground it upon reason, they would mock 
 them ; hut now forasmuch as they say they 
 be lead to it by religion, they honour and 
 worship them. And these be they whom, 
 in their language, by a peculiar name, they 
 call Buthrescas ; the which word by inter- 
 pretation, signifieth to us, men of religion, or 
 religious men. 
 
 They have priests of exceeding holiness, 
 and therefore very few. For there be but 
 thirteen in every city, according to the 
 number of their churches; saving when 
 they go forth to battle — for then seven of 
 them go forth with the army : in whose 
 steads so many now be made at home. But 
 the other, at their return home again, reenter 
 every one in his own place : they that be 
 above the number, until such time as they 
 succeed into the places of the other at their 
 dying, be in the mean season continually in 
 company with the Bishop ; for he is the 
 chief head of them all. They be chosen of 
 the people, as the other magistrates be, by 
 secret voices, for the avoiding of strife. 
 
 After their election, they be consecrate of 
 
ch. xi.] Oj Religion 36 1 
 
 their own company. They be overseers of 
 all divine matters, orderers of religions, and 
 as it were judges and masters of manners. 
 And it is a great dishonesty and shame to be 
 rebuked or spoken to, by any of them, for 
 dissolute and incontinent living. But as it is 
 their office to give good exhortations and 
 counsel, so it is the duty of the prince and 
 the other magistrates, to correct and punish 
 offenders (saving the priests) : whom they 
 find exceeding vicious livers, them they ex- 
 communicate from having any interest in 
 divine matters. And there is almost no 
 punishment among them more feared ; for 
 they run in very great infamy, and be in- 
 wardly tormented with a secret fear of reli- 
 gion, and shall not long escape free with 
 their bodies. For unless they, by quick 
 repentance, approve the amendment of their 
 lives to the priests, they be taken and 
 punished of the council, as wicked and 
 irreligious. Both childhood and youth is 
 instructed and taught of them. Nor be they 
 more diligent to instruct them in learning, 
 than in virtue and good manners ; for they 
 A a 
 
362 Of Religion. [b. ii. 
 
 use with very great endeavour and diligence 
 to put into the heads of their children, whilst 
 they be yet tender and pliant, good opinions 
 and profitable for the conservation of the 
 weal-public* Which, when they be once 
 rooted in children, do remain with them all 
 
 * " It is a reproach to our country and to the present 
 times, that in our great schools in England, the boys are 
 never instructed in the truth or doctrines of religion, nor 
 any attempt made to form their minds and manners by the 
 principles which it contains. They are taught to be scho- 
 lars, without any intention of teaching them to be good 
 men : and they know much more of Cicero or Demos- 
 thenes, than they do of Jesus Christ, or of their Maker. 
 To this fundamental error in our education, it is owing, 
 that when these young men come abroad into the world, 
 who are to be our governors, they are as ignorant of the 
 religion of their country as the most illiterate husbandman 
 or mechanic ; and either take up with absurd, pernicious 
 notions, or are led away into infidelity and every error of 
 life and conduct." Warner. 
 
 Since this observation was made, very material alterations 
 have taken place in oui public schools. — The reader will con- 
 sult Dr. Vincent's pamphlet upon the subject, published a 
 few years ago, which gives an excellent account of the re- 
 ligious exercises of Westminster School: but Westminster 
 is not a. singular instance of moral and religious instruction 
 inour public seminaries — " Suntetaliaeetexcellentissimse!" 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 363 
 
 their life after, and be wondrous profitable 
 for their defence, and maintenance of the 
 state of the common- wealth : which never 
 decayeth but through vices rising of evil 
 opinions. 
 
 The priests, unless they be women (for 
 that kind is not excluded from priesthood ; 
 howbeit few be chosen, and none but widows 
 and old women) the men priests, I say, take 
 to their wives * the chiefest women in all 
 
 * More's sentiments upon the marriage of priests, were 
 very different when he wrote his " Supplicacion of Soules." 
 I extract the following, among many other instances, as an 
 illustration — " How can there, by the marriage of priestes, 
 monkes, and freres, be fewer hores and bawdes, when, by 
 the very marriage itself, beying as it were incestuous and 
 abhominable, all were starke harlottes that maried them, 
 and all starke bawdes that should help to bring them 
 together f See More's Works, printed by Tottel, fol. 
 1557. p. 308. D. 
 
 In another part of his works, against Tindal, he makes 
 this more liberal confession: " But the church both knoweth 
 and confesseth that wedlocke and priest hoode be not repug- 
 nant, but compatible of their nature, and that wedded men 
 have been made priestes and kept styll their wyves. But 
 since perpetuall chastitie, and the forbearinge of the worke 
 of wedlocke, is more acceptable to God than the worke of 
 
364 Of Religion. [b. ii. 
 
 their country : for to no office among the 
 Utopians is there more honour and pre- 
 eminence given. Insomuch that if they 
 commit any offence, they be under no com- 
 mon judgment, but be left only to God and 
 themselves. For they think it not lawful 
 to touch him with man's hand, be he never 
 so vicious, which after so singular a sort 
 was dedicate and consecrate to God, as a 
 holy offering.- 
 
 This manner may they easily observe, be- 
 cause they have so few priests, and do choose 
 them with such circumspection. For it 
 scarcely ever chanceth, that the most vir- 
 tuous among virtuous, which in respect only 
 of his virtue is advanced to so high a dignity, 
 can fall to vice and wickedness. And if it 
 should chance indeed, (as man's nature is 
 mutable and frail) yet by reason they be so 
 few, and promoted to no might nor power, 
 but only to honour, it were not to be feared 
 
 wedlocke in matrimony; therefore the churche taketh 
 none to be priestes, but suche as promise and profess 
 never to be married, but kepe perpetual chastitie." 
 Ibid. p. 485. D. 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 365 
 
 that any great damage by them should hap- 
 pen and ensue to the common-wealth. They 
 have so rare and few priests, lest if the hon- 
 our were communicated to many, the dignity 
 of the order, which among them now is so 
 highly esteemed, should run in contempt. 
 Specially, because they think it hard to find 
 many so good as to be meet for that dignity, 
 to the execution and discharge whereof it is 
 not sufficient to be endued with mean virtues. 
 Furthermore, these priests be not more 
 esteemed of their own countrymen, than they 
 be of foreign and strange countries. Which 
 thing may hereby plainly appear. And I 
 think also that this is the cause of it. For 
 whilst the armies be fighting together in 
 open field, they a little beside, not far off, 
 kneel upon their knees, in their hallowed 
 vestments, holding up their hands to heaven : 
 praying first of all for peace, next for vic- 
 tory of their own part, but to neither part a 
 bloody victory. If their host get the upper 
 hand, they run into the main battle, and 
 restrain their own men from slaying and 
 cruelly pursuing their vanquished enemies. 
 
366 Of Religion. [b. ii. 
 
 Which enemies, if they do but see them 
 and speak to them, it is enough for the safe- 
 guard of their lives ; and the touching of 
 their clothes defendeth and saveth all their 
 goods from ravine and spoil. This thing 
 hath advanced them to so great worship and 
 true majesty among all nations, that many 
 times they have as well preserved their own 
 citizens from the cruel force of their enemies, 
 as they have their enemies from the furious 
 rage of their own men. For it is well known, 
 that when their own army hath recoiled, and 
 in despair turned back and run away, their 
 enemies fiercely pursuing with slaughter and 
 spoil — then the priests, coming between, have 
 stayed the murder, and parted both the hosts. 
 So that peace hath been made and concluded 
 between both parts upon equal and indifferent 
 conditions. For there never was any nation so 
 fierce, so cruel, and rude, but they had them 
 in such reverence, that they counted their 
 bodies hallowed and sanctified, and therefore 
 not to be violently and unreverently touched. 
 They keep holy the first and last day of 
 every month and year, dividing the year 
 
ch. xi.] OJ Religion. 367 
 
 into months, which they measure by the 
 course of the moon, as they do the year by 
 the course of the sun. The first days they 
 call in their language Cinimcrnes, and the 
 last Tapermernes ; the which words may be 
 interpreted, Primifest and Finifest, or else in 
 our speech, first feast and last feast. 
 
 Their churches be very gorgeous, not 
 only of fine and curious workmanship, but 
 also (which in the fewness of them was neces- 
 sary) very wide and large, and able to receive 
 a great company of people : but they be all 
 somewhat dark. Howbeit, that was not done 
 through ignorance in building, but as they say 
 by the counsel of the priests. Because they 
 thought that overmuch light doth disperse 
 men's cogitations; whereas in dim and doubt- 
 ful light they be gathered together, and more 
 earnestly fixed upon religion and devotion :* 
 
 * More would intimate that a certain air of solemnity 
 is given to religious places of worship by a due mixture of 
 light and shade. One of the greatest beauties of Gothic 
 architecture is, that it produces this solemn gloom : the 
 reader may see the subject ably handled by T. Warton, in 
 his Essay on Gothic architecture, published with three 
 
368 Oj Religion. [b.ii. 
 
 which because it is not there of one sort 
 among all men, and yet all the kinds and 
 fashions of it, though they be sundry and 
 manifold, agree together in the honour of 
 divine nature, as going divers ways to one 
 end : therefore nothing is seen or heard in 
 the churches, but that seemeth to agree in- 
 differently with them all. If there be a dis- 
 tinct kind of sacrifice peculiar to any several 
 sect, that they execute at home in their own 
 houses. The common sacrifices be so or- 
 dered, that they be no derogation nor pre- 
 judice to any of the private sacrifices and 
 religions. Therefore no image of any God 
 is seen in the church, to the intent it may be 
 free for every man to conceive God by their 
 religion, after what likeness and similitude 
 they will. They call upon no peculiar name 
 of God, but only Mythra;* in the which 
 word they all agree together in one nature 
 
 others, in an elegant 8vo. volume, published by Mr. Taylor 
 of Holborn. Milton thus alludes to this solemnity of effect 
 in Gothic buildings — 
 
 ¥ And storied windows richly dight, 
 Casting a dim religious light." II Penseroso. 
 | See page 194> note. 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 369 
 
 1 
 
 of the divine Majesty whatsoever it be. No 
 prayers be used bat such as every man may 
 boldly pronounce without the offending of 
 any sect. They come therefore to the 
 church the last day of every month and 
 year, in the evening, yet fasting ; there to give 
 thanks to God for that they have prosperously 
 passed over the year or month, whereof that 
 holiday is the last day. 
 
 The next day they come to the church 
 early in the morning to pray to God that 
 they may have good fortune and success all 
 the new year or month, which they do use 
 to begin of that same holy day. 
 
 But in the holy days that be in the last 
 days of the months and years, before they 
 come to the church, the wives fall down 
 prostrate before their husbands feet at home, 
 and the children before the feet of their 
 parents, confessing and acknowledging 
 themselves offenders either by some actual 
 deed, or by omission of their duty, and desire 
 pardon for their offence. Thus, if any cloud 
 of privy displeasure was risen at home, by 
 this satisfaction it is over-blown, that they 
 3 b 
 
370 Of Religion. [b. n. 
 
 may be present at the sacrifices with pure 
 and charitable minds. For they be afraid 
 to come there with troubled consciences ; 
 therefore if they know themselves to bear 
 any hatred or grudge towards any man, they 
 presume not to come to the sacrifices before 
 they have reconciled themselves, and purged 
 their consciences for fear of great vengeance 
 and punishment for their offence. 
 
 When they be come thither, the men go 
 into the right side of the church, and the 
 women into the left side.* There they place 
 themselves in such order, that all they which 
 be of the male kind in every household, sit 
 before the good man of the house ; and they 
 of the female kind, before the good wife. 
 Thus it is foreseen that all their gestures and 
 behaviours be marked and observed abroad 
 of them, by whose authority and discipline 
 they be governed at home. This also they 
 diligently see unto, that the younger ever- 
 more be coupled with his elder, least chil- 
 dren being joined together, they should pass 
 over the time in childish wantonness, wherein 
 • A custom yet observed in some of our churches. 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion* 37 I 
 
 they ought principally to conceive a religious 
 and devout fear towards God, which is the 
 chief and almost the only incitation to vir- 
 tue. They kill no living beast in sacrifice, 
 nor they think not that the merciful cle- 
 mency of God doth dwell in blood and 
 slaughter, which hath given life to beasts to 
 the intent they should live. They burn 
 frankincense, and other sweet savours, and 
 light also a great number of wax * candles 
 and tapers, not supposing this geert to be 
 any thing available to the divine nature 
 as neither the prayers of men. But this 
 unhurtful and harmless kind of worship 
 pleaseth them. And by these sweet savours 
 and lights, and other such ceremonies, men 
 feel themselves secretly lifted up, and en- 
 couraged to devotion with more willing and 
 fervent hearts. The people weareth in the 
 church white apparel ; the priest is clothed 
 in changeable colours, which in workmanship 
 
 * More here introduces the forms and ceremonies of 
 the Roman Catholic church — which Pope has so beauti- 
 fully interwoven in the poetry of his " Eloisa." 
 
 t Stuff. 
 
372 Of Religion. [b. ii. 
 
 be excellent, but in stuff not very precious : 
 for their vestments be neither embroidered 
 with gold, nor set with precious stones. 
 But they be wrought so finely and cunningly 
 with divers feathers of fowls, that the esti- 
 mation of no earthly stuff is able to counter- 
 vail the price of the work. Furthermore, in 
 these birds' feathers, and in the due order of 
 them, which is observed in their setting, they 
 say, is contained certain divine mysteries. The 
 interpretation whereof known, which is dili- 
 gently taught by the priests, they be put in 
 remembrance of the bountiful benefits of 
 God toward them, and of the love and hon- 
 our which of their behalf is due to God : 
 and also of their duties one toward another. 
 When the priest first cometh out of the 
 vestry thus apparelled, they fall down incon- 
 tinent every one reverently to the ground, 
 with so still silence, that the very fashion of 
 the thing striketh into them a certain fear of 
 God, as though he were there personally 
 present. When they have lain a little space on 
 the ground, the priest giveth them a sign to 
 rise ; then they sing praises unto God, which 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion, 313 
 
 they intermix with instruments* of music, for 
 the most part, of other fashions than these 
 
 * We may form some opinion of the high estimation in 
 which Church Music was held in these times, from a " Book 
 of Ceremonies published in the year 1539- " The sober, 
 discrete, and devout singing, music, and playing with 
 organs, used in the church, in the service of God, are or- 
 dained to move and stir the people to the sweetnes of Godes 
 word, the which is there sung: and by that sweet harmony, 
 both to excite them to prayer and devotion, and also to 
 put them in remembrance of the heavenly triumphant 
 church, where is everlasting joy, continual laud, and 
 praise to God." Sect. ft. Service of the Church" 
 
 All this seems to have been violently scouted by the zeal 
 of the first reformers, in the u Protestation of the Clargie 
 of the Lower House," they declared that " synging, and 
 saying of mass, matins, or even-song, is but roryng, howl- 
 ing, whistelyng, mummying, conjuring, and jogelyng, and 
 the playing of the organys * a foolish vanitie .'" 
 
 On the interment of Henry VIII. " when the mold was 
 brought and cast into the grave by the Prelate executing, 
 at the words pulverem pulveri, and cinerem cineri, (a proof 
 by the bye, of the Service being still in Latin), first the 
 Lord Great Chamberlain, and al others aforesaid in order, 
 with heavy and dolorous lamentations brake their staves, 
 &c. with exceeding sorrow and heaviness, not without 
 
 * In Sir John Hawkins's Hist, of Music, vol. iv. p. 151, 
 there is a curious cut of an organ made in the time of 
 King Stephen. 
 
374 Of Religion. [b. ii. 
 
 that we use in this part of the world. And 
 like as some of ours be much sweeter than 
 theirs, so some of theirs do far pass ours. 
 But in one thing doubtless they go exceed- 
 ing far beyond us ; for all their music, both 
 that they play upon instruments, and that 
 they sing with man's voice, doth so resemble 
 
 grievous sighs and tears very piteous and sorrowful to be- 
 hold. Then the trumpets sounded with great melody and 
 courage to the comfort of al them that were there present." 
 
 See Dr. Burney's Hist, of Music, vol. iii. p. 2, 3 ; and 
 the authorities there cited. Some curious intelligence on 
 this subject is collected by Strutt, Man. and Cust. vol. iii. 
 p. 116. 117. 
 
 Among the contributors to church music, Henry VIII. 
 [whose fame as a musician is frequently mentioned by our 
 early writers] appears to have been not the least scanty: 
 having, acccording to Hall, [Union Vit. H. 8.] " set 2 
 goodly masses, every of them 5 partes, whyche were songe 
 oftentymes in his chapel, and afterwardes in divers other 
 places." Ritson possessed a MS. of Henry the Eight's 
 time, " somewhat resembling the Fairfax collection, but 
 more abounding in church service, hymns, carols, and 
 other religious pieces." He tells us too, " there is like- 
 wise a species of poetical harmony in old books, called 
 K. H. [King Henry's] mirth, or Freemen's Songs." See 
 his" Historical Essay on National Song," p. lv. in his Select 
 Coll. of English Songs. 1783. 
 
ch. x.] Of Religion. 375 
 
 and express natural affections — the sound and 
 tune is so applied and made agreeable to the 
 thing — that whether it be a prayer, or else 
 a duty of gladness, of patience, of trouble, 
 of mourning, or of anger, the fashion of the 
 melody doth so represent the meaning of the 
 thing, that it doth wonderfully move, stir, 
 pierce, and enflame * the hearers' minds. At 
 the last, the people and the priest together 
 rehearse solemn prayers in words, expressly 
 pronounced, so made that every man may 
 
 * " In a word, music is so powerful a thing that it 
 ravisheth the souls ; " regina sensuum" — the queen of the 
 lenses — by sweet pleasure, [which is an happy cure] and 
 corporal tunes, it pacifies our incorporeal soul, — " sine ore 
 loquens, dominatum in animam exercet" — and carries it 
 beyond itself — helps, elevates, extends it." — Burton's Ana- 
 tomy of Melancholy, part 2. sect. 2. subject 3. 
 
 " He [that is happily qualified to appreciate the better 
 parts of music] will enjoy this heavenly gift, this exquisite 
 and soul-delighting sensation, in the temples of his God, or 
 in the peaceful circles of domestic happiness" — says Mr. 
 Douce, in a fine burst of eloquence upon the charms and 
 efficacy of music. See his " Illustrations of Shakspeare 
 and of Ancient Manners," 8vo. 1808: vol, i. 270. a 
 work replete with tasteful illustration and curious research. 
 
376 Of Religion. [b. ii. 
 
 privately apply to himself that which is 
 commonly spoken of all. 
 
 In these prayers, every man recogniseth 
 and knowledgeth God to be his maker, his 
 governor, and the principal cause of all 
 other goodness ; thanking him for so many 
 benefits received at his hand : particularly 
 that, through the favour of God, he hath 
 chanced into that public weal, which is most 
 happy and wealthy, and hath chosen that 
 religion which he hopeth to be most true. 
 In the which thing, if he do any thing err, 
 or if there be any other better than either of 
 them is, being more acceptable to God, he 
 desireth him that he will of his goodness let 
 him have knowledge thereof, as one that is 
 ready to follow what way soever he will 
 lead him. But if this form and fashion of a 
 commonwealth be best, and his own religion 
 most true and perfect, then he desireth God 
 to give him a constant stedfastness in the 
 same, and to bring all other people to the 
 same order of living, and to the same opinion 
 of God, unless there be any thing that in 
 this diversity of religions doth delight his 
 
ch. xi.] Of Religion. 577 
 
 unsearchable pleasure. To be short, he 
 prayeth him that after his death he may- 
 come to him : but how soon or late, that he 
 dare not assign or determine. Howbeit, if 
 it might stand with his Majesty's pleasure, 
 he would be much gladder to die a painful 
 death, and so to go to God, than by long 
 living in worldly prosperity to be away from 
 him. When this prayer is said, they fall 
 down to the ground again, and a little after 
 they rise up and go to dinner; and the re- 
 sidue of the day they pass over in plays, 
 and exercise of chivalry.* 
 
 * It must be confessed that, with some trifling ex- 
 ceptions, there is much candour, benevolence, and a 
 genuine spirit of piety displayed in the religion, creeds, 
 and modes of worship of the Utopians. There are pas- 
 sages in the preceding pages, not less affecting for the true 
 spirit of devotion which they breathe, than beautiful for 
 the language in which they are composed. The original 
 Latin of More is, throughout the whole of the chapter upon 
 religion, in a more elevated and energetic strain ; and the 
 translation of Robinson improves also in proportion. The 
 French translation is decorated with so many flourishes 
 that it can hardly be read with seriousness. 
 
 3 c 
 
[ 378 ] [b. „. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Hythloday s Reflections on the Commonwealth 
 of Utopia. 
 
 .M ow I have declared and prescribed unto 
 you, as truly as I could, the form and order 
 of that common-wealth, which verily in my 
 judgment is not only the best, but also that 
 which alone of good right may claim and 
 take upon it the name of a common-wealth 
 or public weal. For in other places they 
 speak still of the common-wealth ; but every 
 man procureth his own private gain. Here, 
 where nothing is private, the common affairs 
 be earnestly looked upon. And truly on 
 both parts they have good cause so to do as 
 they do. For in other countries who knoweth 
 not that he shall starve for hunger, unless he 
 make some several provision for himself, 
 though the common-wealth flourish never so 
 much in riches ! And therefore he is com- 
 pelled even of very necessity to have regard 
 
ch. xii.] Hftklodaf s Reflections, &c. 379 
 
 to himself rather than to the people, that is 
 to say, to others. 
 
 Contrarywise, there where all things be 
 common to every man, it is not to be doubted 
 that any man shall lack any thing necessary 
 for his private uses, so that the common 
 storehouses and barns be sufficiently stored. 
 For there nothing is distributed after a nig- 
 gish sort, neither is there any poor man or 
 beggar. And though no man have any 
 thing,* yet every man is rich ; for what can 
 be more rich than to live joyful and merrily, 
 without all grief and pensiveness ? not caring 
 for his own living, not vexed or troubled 
 with his wife's importunate complaints, nor 
 dreading poverty to his son, nor sorrowful 
 for his daughters dowry ! Yea they take no 
 care at all for the living and wealth of them- 
 selves and all theirs ; and their wives, their 
 children, their nephews, their children's 
 children, and all the succession that ever 
 shall follow in their posterity. And yet, 
 besides this, there is no less provision for 
 them that were once labourers, and be now 
 * That is, as his own exclusive property* 
 
380 Hfihloday s Reflections on [b. ii. 
 
 weak and impotent, than for them that do 
 now labour and take pain. Here now would 
 I see if any man dare be so bold as to com. 
 pare with it the equity, the justice, of other 
 nations — among whom, I forsake* God, if 
 I can find any sign or token of equity and 
 justice ! For what justice is this, that a rich 
 goldsmith or an usurer, or to be short, any 
 of them which either do nothing at all — or 
 else that which they* do, is such, that it is not 
 very necessary to the common-wealth — 
 should have a pleasant and a wealthy living, 
 either by idleness, or by unnecessary busi- 
 ness ? when in the meantime, poor labourers, 
 carters, iron smiths, carpenters and plough- 
 men, by so great and continual toil, as draw- 
 ing and bearing beasts, be scant + able to 
 sustain — and again so necessary toil, that 
 without it no common-wealth were able to 
 continue and endure one year — should yet 
 
 * In the original Latin it is " dispeream." 
 f For " scarce able" — the expression is in the transla- 
 tion of 1551, and is yet sometimes to be heard in the 
 remoter parts of England. 
 
ch. xii.] the Commonwealth of Utopia. 381 
 
 get so hard and poor a living, and live so 
 wretched and miserable a life, that the state 
 and condition of the labouring beast may 
 seem much better and wealthier ? For they 
 be not put to so continual labour, nor their 
 living is not much worse : yea, to them much 
 pleasanter, taking no thought in the mean 
 season for the time to come. But these silly 
 poor wretches, be presently tormented with 
 barren and unfruitful labour. And the re- 
 membrance of their poor indigent and beg- 
 garly old age killeth them up. For their 
 daily wages is so little, that it will not suffice 
 for the same day ; much less, it yieldeth any 
 overplus that may daily be laid up for the 
 relief of old age. 
 
 Is not this an unjust and an unkind public 
 weal, which giveth great fees and rewards to 
 gentlemen, as they call them, and to gold- 
 smiths, and to such other, which be either 
 idle persons, or else only flatterers, and de- 
 visers of vain pleasures : and of the contrary 
 part, maketh no gentle provision for poor 
 ploughmen, colliers, labourers, iron-smiths, 
 and carpenters, without whom no common- 
 
382 Hythloday s Reflections on [b. n. 
 
 wealth can continue? But after it hath 
 abused the labourers of their lusty and flower- 
 ing age, at the last, when they be oppressed 
 with old age and sickness, being needy, 
 poor, and indigent of all things, then for- 
 getting their so many painful watchings, not 
 remembering their so many and so great 
 benefits — • recompenseth and acquainteth 
 them most unkindly with miserable death ! 
 And yet besides this, the rich men not only 
 by private fraud, but also by common laws, 
 do every day pluck and snatch away from 
 the poor, some part of their daily living. 
 
 So whereas it seemed before unjust to repay 
 with unkindness their pains, that they have 
 been beneficial to the common-weal, now 
 they have to their wrong and unjust dealing 
 (which is yet a much worse point) given the 
 name of justice, yea, and that by force of a 
 law ! Therefore, when I consider and weigh 
 in my mind all these common-wealths which 
 now a-days any where do flourish, so God 
 help me, I can perceive nothing but a cer- 
 tain conspiracy of rich men procuring their 
 own commodities, under the name and title 
 
c h . x 1 1 ] the Commonwealth of Utopia. 383 
 
 of the common-wealth ! They invent and 
 devise all means and crafts ; first, how to 
 keep safely without fear of loosing, what 
 they have unjustly gathered together : and 
 next, how to hire and abuse the work and 
 labour of the poor for as little money as 
 may be. These devices, when the rich men 
 have decreed to be kept and observed under 
 colour of the commonalty, that is to say, also 
 of the poor people, then they be made laws. 
 But these most vicious and wicked men, 
 when they have by their unsatiable cove- 
 tousness divided among themselves all those 
 things which would have sufficed all men, 
 yet how far be they from the wealth and feli- 
 city of the Utopian common-wealth ? Out 
 of the which, in that all the desire of money 
 with the use thereof is utterly secluded and 
 banished, how great a heap of cares is cut 
 away ? How great an occasion of wicked- 
 ness and mischief is pulled up by the root? 
 For who knoweth not that fraud, theft, 
 ravine, brawling, quarrelling, brabbling, 
 strife, chiding, contention, murder, treason, 
 poisoning, which by daily punishments are 
 
384 H/thlodaf 's Reflections on [b. ii. 
 
 rather revenged than refrained, do die when 
 money dieth ?* And also that fear, grief, care, 
 labours, and watching, do perish even the 
 very same moment that money perisheth ? 
 Yet poverty itself, which only seemed to 
 lack money, if money were gone, it also 
 would decrease and vanish away. And that 
 you may perceive this more plainly, consider 
 with yourselves some barren and unfruitful 
 year, wherein many thousands of people have 
 
 * Numerous are the anecdotes told of More's indif- 
 ference to wealth : some of them have been already before 
 the reader. u Tindall and divers others affirmed, that 
 they wist well that Sir T. More was not less worth in 
 monie, plate, and other moveables, than 20,000 marks — 
 but it was found farre otherwise when his house was 
 searched after he was committed to the Tower, where a 
 while he had some competent libertie: but after, on a 
 suddaine, he was shutt up very close — at whiche time he 
 feared that there would be a new and more narrower 
 search in all his houses ; because his mind gave him that 
 folks thought he was not so poore, as it appeared in the 
 search ; but he told his daughter, Mrs. Roper, that it 
 would be but a sporte to them that knew the truth of his 
 povertie! unlesse they should fiude out his wive's gay girdle, 
 and her goolde beades !" — Great Grandson's Life of Sir T. 
 More, 4to. edit. p. 403. 
 
c h xii.] the Commonwealth of Utopia. 385 
 
 starved for hunger — I dare be bold to say, 
 that in the end of that penury, so much corn 
 or grain might have been found in rich men's 
 barns, if they had been searched, as, being 
 divided among them whom famine and pes- 
 tilence then consumed, no man at ail should 
 have felt that plague and penury ! So 
 easily men might get their living if that same 
 worthy Princess, Lady Money, did not alone 
 stop up the way between us and our living, 
 which a God's name was very excellently 
 devised and invented, that by her the way 
 thereto should be opened ! I am sure the 
 rich men perceive this ; nor be they ig- 
 norant how much better it were to lack no 
 necessary thing, than to abound with over- 
 much superfluity : to be rid out of innu- 
 merable cares and troubles, than to be be- 
 sieged and encumbered with great riches. 
 
 And I doubt not that either the respect 
 of every man's private commodity, or else 
 the authority of our Saviour Christ, (which 
 for his great wisdom could not but know what 
 were best, and for his inestimable goodness 
 could not but counsel to that which he knew to 
 3 d 
 
386 Hythloday's Reflections on [b. n. 
 
 bebest) would have brought all the world long 
 ago into the laws of this weal-public, if it were 
 not, that only one beast, the princess and mo- 
 ther of all mischief, Pride,* doth withstand 
 and let it ! She measureth not wealth and pros- 
 perity by her own commodities, but by the 
 misery and incommodities of other: she 
 would not by her good will be made a god- 
 dess, if there were no wretches left, over 
 whom she might, like a scornful lady, rule 
 and triumph ; over whose miseries her feli- 
 cities might shine ; whose poverty she might 
 vex, torment, and increase, by rigorously 
 setting forth her riches. This hell-hound 
 creepth into men's hearts, and pulleth them 
 back from entering the right path of life, 
 
 * Whoever will consult More's Treatise " De quatuor 
 novissimis," in which there is an excellent chapter " Of 
 Pride," will see in what detestation this abominable vice was 
 held by our author. In his " Treatise upon the Passion," 
 the subject is again discussed ; and at the commencement 
 of it, (which relates to the conduct of Satan towards our 
 first parents,) the curious reader may discover some pas- 
 sages, which, probably, supplied Milton with hints for the 
 conduct of the Devil on his arrival in Paradise. See More's 
 Works, edit. 1557- p. 82. 1270. 
 
ch.xii.] the Commonwealth of Utopia. 38 7 
 
 and is so deeply rooted in men's breasts that 
 she cannot be pulled out. 
 
 This form and fashion of a weal-public, 
 which I would gladly wish unto all nations, 
 I am glad yet that it chanced to the Utopians ; 
 which have followed those institutions of 
 life, whereby they have laid such foundations 
 of their common-wealth, as shall continue 
 and last not only wealthy, but also, as far as 
 man's wit may judge and conjecture, shall 
 endure for ever. For seeing the chief causes 
 of ambition and sedition, with other vices, be 
 plucked up by the roots and abandoned — 
 at home there can be no jeopardy of domes- 
 tical dissension, which, alone, hath cast un- 
 derfoot and brought to nought the well 
 fortified aid, and strongly defenced wealth 
 and riches of many cities. But for as much 
 as perfect concord remaineth, and wholesome 
 laws be executed, at home, the envy of all 
 foreign princes be not able to shake or move 
 the empire, though they have many times 
 long ago gone about to do it, being evermore 
 driven back. 
 
EPILOGUE. 
 
 1 h u s when Raphael had made an end of 
 his tale, though many things came to my 
 mind which, in the manners and laws of that 
 people, seemed to be instituted and founded 
 of no good reason, but only in the fashion of 
 their chivalry, and in their sacrifices, and 
 religions, and in other of their laws ; but also 
 yea and chiefly, in that which is the principal 
 foundation of all their ordinances — that is to 
 say, in the commonalty of their life and 
 living, without any occupying of money — 
 
Epilogue. 389 
 
 by the which thing only all nobility, magni- 
 ficence, worship, honour, and majesty, the 
 true ornaments and honours, as the common 
 opinion is, of a common-wealth, utterly be 
 overthrown and destroyed — yet, because I 
 knew that he was weary of talking, and was 
 not sure whether he could abide that any 
 thing should be said against his mind — spe- 
 cially remembering that he had reprehended 
 this fault in other, which be afraid least they 
 should seem not to be wise enough, unless 
 they could find some fault in other men's 
 inventions — therefore, I, praising both their 
 institutions and his communication, took 
 him by the hand, and led him in to supper ; 
 saying that we would choose another time to 
 weiah and examine the same matters, and to 
 talk with him more at large therein : which 
 would God it might once come to pass ! 
 
 In the mean time, as I cannot agree and 
 consent to all things that he said — being else 
 without doubt a man singularly well learned, 
 and also in all worldly matter exactly and 
 profoundly experienced — so must I needs 
 confess and grant, that many things be in the 
 
S90 Epilogue. [b. ii. 
 
 Utopian weal-public, which in our cities 
 I may rather wish for, than hope after. 
 
 Thus endeth the afternoon's talk of 
 
 Raphael Hythloday, concerning the 
 
 laws and institutions of the island 
 
 of Utopia.* 
 
 * " The same praise is due to many passages in the second 
 part (or book), where the country, the manners, and the 
 political institutions of the Utopians are described. Yet 
 while we allow much to the ingenuity, and much to the 
 judgment of the author, it must be acknowledged that many 
 of the laws and practices of this new republic are by no 
 means improvements ; that the author has been more 
 successful in exposing defects than in providing remedies; 
 and that his regulations are often fitted rather for the 
 beings of his own fancy, than for those with whom the 
 Creator has peopled this world." 
 
 " The sagacity of the Utopians cannot be sufficiently 
 applauded, for connecting together so intimately the ideas 
 of virtue and industry, of idleness and vice. And although 
 the regulations adopted by their legislator to retain all his 
 people in continual activity are often fanciful, and, per- 
 haps impracticable ; yet it must be acknowledged, that 
 the object he had in view is essentially connected with the 
 improvement and happiness of mankind.'' 
 
 Macdiarmid, Lives of British Statesmen, Appendix. 
 
 End of the Utopia. 
 
[ 391 ] 
 
 To the Right Hon. Jerome Buslide, 
 Provost of Arienum, and Counsellor 
 of the Catholic King Charles, Peter 
 Giles, Citizen of Antwerp, wisheth 
 health and felicity ; 
 
 1HOMAS MORE, the singular ornament of 
 this our age, as you yourself (Right Honourable 
 Buslide^ can witness, to whom he is perfectly 
 well known — sent unto me, this other day, the 
 island of Utopia, to very few as yet known, but 
 most worthy; which, as far excelling Plato'; 
 common-wealth, all people should be willing to 
 know : specially of a man most eloquent so finely 
 set forth, so cunningly painted out, and so evi- 
 dently subject to the eye, that as oft as I read it, 
 me thinketh that I see somewhat more than when 
 I heard Raphael Hythloday himself [for I was 
 present at that talk, as well as Master More,,! 
 uttering and pronouncing his own words : yea, 
 though the same man according to his pure elo- 
 quence, did so open and declare the matter, that 
 he might plainly enough appear to report, not 
 
392 PETER GILES TO 
 
 things yvhich he had learned of others only by 
 hearsay, but which he had with his own eyes pre- 
 sently seen, thoroughly viewed, and wherein he 
 had no small time been conversant and abiding : 
 a man truly, in mine opinion, as touching the 
 knowledge of religions, people, and worldly ex- 
 perience, much pas sing, yea, even the very famous 
 and renowned traveller Ulysses. Indeed such a 
 one, as for the space of these DCCC years past, 
 I think nature into the world brought not forth 
 his like : in comparison of who, Vespuce may 
 be thought to have seen nothing. 
 
 Moreover, whereas we be wont more effectually 
 and pitifully to declare and express things that 
 we have seen, than which we have but only heard — 
 there was besides that, in this man, a certain 
 peculiar grace, and singular dexterity to de- 
 scribe and set forth a matter withal, Yet 
 the self same things, as oft as J behold and 
 consider them, drawn and painted out with 
 Master More's pencil, I am therewith so 
 moved, so delighted, so inflamed, and so rapt, 
 that sometime me think lam presently conversant 
 even in the island of Utopia ! And I promise you, 
 I can scarce believe that Raphael himself by all 
 
"\ 
 
 JEROME BUSLIDE. 393 
 
 that five years space that he was in Utopia 
 abiding, saw there so much as here in Master 
 More's description is to be seen and perceived. 
 Which description, with so many wondrous and 
 miraculous things is replenished, that I stand in 
 great doubt, whereat first and chiefly to muse or 
 marvel : whether at the excellency of his perfect 
 and sure memory, which could well nigh word by 
 word rehearse so many things once only heard : 
 or else at his singular prudence, who so well 
 and wittily marked and bare away all the ori- 
 ginal causes and fountains (to the vulgar people 
 commonly most unknown) whereof both issueth 
 and springeth the mortal confusion and utter 
 decay of a common-wealth, and also how the ad- 
 vancement and wealthy state of the same may 
 rise and grow : or else at the ejjicacy of his 
 words, which in so fine a Latin style, with such 
 force of eloquence, hath couched together and 
 comprised so many and divers matters; spe- 
 cially being a man continually incumbered with 
 so many busy and troublesome cares, both pub- 
 lic and private, as he is. 
 
 Howbeit, all these things cause you little to 
 marvel (Right Honourable BuslideJ, /or that you 
 3 e 
 
394 PETER GILES TO 
 
 are familiarly and thoroughly acquainted with 
 the notable, yea almost divine wit of the man. 
 But now to proceed to othef matters : I surely 
 know nothing needful or requisite to be adjoined 
 unto his writings^ only a metre of four verses 
 written in the Utopian tongue ; which, after 
 Master More's departure, Hythloday by- 
 chance shewed me : that have I caused to be 
 added thereto, with the Alphabet of the same na- 
 tion, and have also garnished the margin of the 
 book with notes. For as touching the situation 
 of the island, that is to say, in what part of the 
 world Utopia standeth, the ignorance and lack 
 whereof not a little troubleth andgrieveth Master 
 More: indeed Raphael left not that unspoken of. 
 Howbeit, with very few words he lightly 
 touched it, accidentally by the way passing it 
 over; as meaning of likelihood to keep and reserve 
 that to any other place. And the same, I know not 
 hoWy by a certain evil and unlucky chance, es- 
 caped us both. For when Raphael was speak- 
 ing thereof, one of Master More's servants 
 came to him, and whispered in his ear : where- 
 fore I being then of purpose more earnestly ad- 
 dicted to hear — one of the company, by reason of 
 
JEROME BUSLIDE. 395 
 
 cold taken, I think a shipboard, coughed out 
 so loud, that he took from my hearing certain 
 of his words. But I will never stint, nor rest, 
 until J have got the full and exact knowledge 
 hereof: insomuch that I will be able perfectly to 
 instruct you, not only in the longitude or true 
 meridian of the island, but also in the just lati- 
 tude thereof; that is to say, in the sublevation 
 or height of the pole in that region; if our friend 
 Hythloday be in safety and alive. For we 
 hear very uncertain news of him. Some report 
 that he died in his journey homeward. Some 
 again affirm that he returned into his country ; 
 but partly, for that he could not away with the 
 fashions of his country folks, and partly, for 
 that his mind and affection was altogether set 
 and fixed upon Utopia, they say that he hath 
 taken his voyage thither-war d again. JVow as 
 touching this, that the name of this island is no 
 where found among the old and ancient cosmo- 
 graphers, this doubt Hythloday himself very 
 well dissolved. For why, it is possible enough 
 (quoth he) that the name, which it had in old 
 time, was afterward changed, or else that they 
 never had knowledge of this island; for as much 
 
396 P. GILES TO J. BUSLIDE. 
 
 as now, in our time, divers lands be found, which 
 to the old geographers were unknown. 
 
 Howbeit, what needeth it in this behalf to 
 fortify the matter with arguments, seeing Mas- 
 ter More is author hereof sufficient? But 
 whereas he doubteth of the edition, or imprinting 
 of the book, indeed herein I doth commend and 
 also acknowledge the mans modesty. 
 
 Howbeit, unto me it seemeth a work most un- 
 worthy to be long suppressed, and most worthy 
 to go abroad into the hands of men ; yea, and 
 under the title of your name, to be published to 
 the world : either because the singular endow- 
 ments and qualities of Master More be to no 
 man better known than to you, or else because 
 no man is more ft than you, with good counsels 
 to further and advance the common-wealth : 
 whereinyou have many years already continued 
 and travelled with great joy and commenda- 
 tions, both for wisdom andknowlege, and also of 
 integrity and uprightness. Thus, liberal sup- 
 porter of good learning, and flower of this our 
 time, I bid you most heartily well to fare ! 
 
 At Antwerp, 15] 6, the first 
 day of November. 
 
SPECIMEN 
 
 OF 
 
 %$t Utopian ianguage* 
 
 A metre of four verses in the Utopian 
 tongue, briefly touching as well the strange 
 beginning, as also the happy and wealthy 
 continuance, of the same common-wealth : 
 
 Utopus ha Boccas peula chama polta chamaan. 
 Bargol he maglomi Baccan soma gymnosophaon. 
 Agrama gymnosophon labarem bacha bodamilomin. 
 Voluala barchin heman la lauoluala dramme pagloni. 
 
 Which verses the translator, according to 
 his simple knowledge, and mean understand- 
 ing in the Utopian tongue, hath thus rudely 
 englished: 
 
 My king and conquerour Utopus by name, 
 
 A prince of much renown and immortal fame, 
 
 Hath made me an isle that erst no island was, 
 
 Full freight with worldly wealth, with pleasure and solace. 
 
[ 398 ] 
 
 I, one of all other, without philosophy, 
 
 Have shaped for man a philosophical city. 
 
 As mine, I am nothing dangerous to impart, 
 
 So better to receive, I am ready with all my heart. 
 
 A short metre of Utopia, written by 
 Anemolius, Poet-Laureati and nephew to 
 Hythloday, by his sister. 
 
 Me Utopie cleped antiquity, 
 
 Void of haunt and harbour. 
 
 Now am I like Plato's city, 
 
 Whose fame flieth the world through. 
 
 Yea like, or rather more likely, 
 
 Plato's platt to excell and pass, 
 
 For what Plato's pen hath platted briefly, 
 
 In naked words, as in a glass, 
 
 The same have I performed fully, 
 
 With laws, with men, and treasure fitly. 
 
 Wherefore not Utopia but rather rightly 
 
 My name is Eutopia: a place of felicity. 
 
 Gerard Noviomage, of Utopia. 
 
 Doth pleasure please ? then place thee here, and well 
 
 thee rest, 
 Most pleasant pleasures thou shall find here, 
 Doth profit ease ? then here arrive, this isle is best ; 
 For passing profits do here appear. 
 Doth both thee tempt, and wouldest thou gripe both gain 
 
 and pleasure r 
 
[ 399 ] 
 
 This isle is freight with both bounteously. 
 
 To still thy greedy intent, reap here incomparable treasure. 
 
 Both mind and tongue to garnish richly, 
 
 The hid wells and fountains both of vice and virtue, 
 
 Thou hast them here subject unto thine eye. 
 
 Be thankful now, and thanks where thanks be due, 
 
 Give to Thomas More, London's immortal glory. 
 
 Cornelius Graphey to the Reader. 
 
 Wilt thou know what wonders strange be in the land that 
 
 late was found ? 
 Wilt thou learn thy life to lead, by divers ways, and godly 
 
 be? 
 Wilt thou of virtue and of vice understand the very 
 
 ground ? 
 Wilt thou see this wretched world, how full it is of vanity? 
 Then read, and mark, and bear in mind, for thy behalf, 
 
 as thou may best : 
 All things that in this present work, that worthy clerk 
 
 Sir Thomas More, 
 With wit divine full learnedly, unto the world hath 
 
 plain exprest : 
 In whom London well glory may, for wisdom and for 
 
 godly lore. 
 
 %* From the Edition of 1556. 
 
[ 401 ] 
 
 SUPPLEMENTAL NOTES. 
 
 Family of Sir T. More. 
 
 " He (John More) married a Yorkshire 
 hieress, 8cc. and had by her five children ; 
 four of whom died shortly after coming of 
 age — the youngest married, and had thirteen 
 children." — p. xix. 
 
 This youngest child I apprehend to be Gertrude; 
 who composed a very serious religious work, under the 
 title of " The Spiritual Exercises of the most vertuous 
 and religious D. Gertrude More, &c. she called them — 
 Amor ordinem nescit — And Ideot's Devotions. Her only 
 Spiritual Father and Directour the Ven. Fa. Baker stiled 
 them Confessiones Amantis — A Lover's Confessions, &c. 
 Printed at Paris, m.dc.lviii. 12mo." With a beau- 
 tifully executed line-engraving of the Authoress, by R. 
 Lochon. The words " D. Gertrude More. Mag- 
 3 F 
 
405 Supplemental [Host or 
 
 nes Amoius Amor," are inscribed under the engraving ; 
 which I conceive to be of excessive rarity. Some verses, 
 opposite this portrait, tell us expressly that the work is the 
 production of Sir Thomas More's grandchild. 
 
 Works of Sir T. More — p. lxxxii. 
 
 More's Richard III. was reprinted by T. Paine, in 
 12mo. 1641. There are two title-pages to this publication : 
 the first is called " The Historic Spc. of Edward the V" 
 the second " The Tragicall Historie, SfC. of Richard the 
 Hid." The entire volume comprehends 4fjl pages. Por- 
 traits of Edward and Richard (the latter a very charac- 
 teristic one) are prefixed to these titles. The work is 
 dedicated to " Sir John Lenthall, Knight, Marshall of the 
 King's Bench." 
 
 The Host or Landlord of an Alehouse. 
 
 " What sort of human beings the hosts were in former 
 days, &c." — p. 6l, note. 
 
 We have been favoured by Caxton, in the second edi- 
 tion of his " Book of Chess" with the following wood-cut 
 
Landlord.] Notes. 403 
 
 of this important personage — who is there made the Sixth 
 Pawn in the Game. 
 
 " This resembleth," says our venerable typographer, 
 " the Taverners, Hostlers, and sellers of victual !" 
 
 Male Accomplishments. 
 " Wine taverns, ale-houses, and tipling- 
 houses, 8cc. with unlawful games, 8cc. do not 
 
404- Supplemental [Male 
 
 all these things send the haunters of them 
 straight a stealing, when their money is 
 gone?"-— p. 65—8, 9. 
 
 " Dice play, and such other foolish and 
 pernicious games, they know not." — p. 1 79. 
 
 In an u Epistle Dedicatory to the Gentry, &c. of 
 Northumberland, Bishoprick of Durham, Westmorland, 
 and Cumberland," prefixed to a rare Catalogue of Books, 
 (which is noticed at large in a subsequent page,) publ. 
 A. D. l6SS — we have the following energetic exhortation : 
 
 ** Let Tinkers and vulgar brains drown and soak their 
 meaner wits and conceptions in draining a country ale- 
 house ! Let Gentlemen seek their own honor, and blazon 
 their own reputation, by their noble and brave deportment; 
 which is only to be accomplished by study, reading, and con- 
 verse with discreet and wise men. And thus may you prove 
 thorns in the way of wickedness, rather than supporters 
 and nourishers of debauched courses; to the ruin of your 
 own fortunes, and blush of your relations. Thus may you 
 strive to recover yourselves from the tyranny of common 
 education, which lies now much in wearing fine cloaths, 
 eating, sleeping, drinking, and knowing nothing above the 
 degree of common and low understanding; many being, 
 only by their rude demeanors, the constables, slaves, and 
 a derision to all: drowning those parts, bestowed with 
 their parents cost, and, it may be, purchased with the sweat 
 of their own industry. Thus, like high spirited horses, 
 that beat out their fiery lives in their own litters! Pure 
 oil cannot mingle with water ; nor the extracted quintes- 
 
Accomplishments.] Notes. 405 
 
 sence of true nobleness (in a right gentleman) with the 
 dregs and subsistence of unworthiness," sign. A. 4. B. 
 Consult also Braithwait's " Nursery for Gentry" which 
 abounds with beautiful and apt sentiments upon this sub- 
 ject. 
 
 There is some force in the following quotation from a 
 more ancient, and popular, writer. 
 
 " To be a Gentle borne t and to use him selfe ungently, is 
 even as much as to shame hym selfe and his. There have 
 bene found many, which came of a low birth, but they 
 garnished their kyndred so with vertues and noble actes, 
 that they and their stocke attayned to great prosperity." 
 Coverdale's Christian State of Matrimony, 1575. 
 Svo. fol. 51. 
 
 The following was Sir Thomas Smyth's description of 
 a Gentleman, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, which the 
 reader may think as appropriate as any definition supplied 
 him by the learning of modern times. 
 
 " As for Gentlemen, they be made good cheap in Eng- 
 land. For whosoever studieth the laws of the realm, who 
 studieth in the Universities, who professeth liberal sciences, 
 and to be short, who can live idly and without manual 
 labour, and will bear the port, charge^ and countenance of 
 a Gentleman, he shall be called Master; for that is the title 
 which men give to esquires and other gentlemen — and 
 shall be taken for a gentleman : for true it is with us, as is 
 said, " Tanti eris aliis quanti tibi fcceris," &c. &c. 
 
 De Repub. Anglor. ch. 20. p. 27« 
 
 The following excellent observations upon '•' Dice play- 
 ing" and its evil consequences, by a writer contemporary 
 
406 Supplemental [Male 
 
 with More, are well deserving the reader's attention ; for 
 although two centuries and a half have elapsed since they 
 were written, yet, unfortunately, even atthis day, we witness 
 too many instances of their being founded in truth. 
 
 " I suppose there is not a more plain figure of idleness, 
 than playing at dice. For besides, that therein is no man- 
 ner of exercise of the body or mind, they which play 
 thereat, must seem to have no portion of wit or cunning, if 
 they will be called fair players, or in some company avoid 
 the stab of a dagger, if they be taken with any crafty con- 
 veyance. And because always wisdom is therein suspected, 
 there is seldom any playing at dice, but thereat is vehement 
 chiding and brawling, horrible oaths, cruel, and sometimes 
 mortal menaces. I omit strokes, which now and then do 
 happen, oftentimes between bretherenand most dear friends, 
 if fortune bring alway to one man evil chances, which 
 maketh the play of the other suspected. O why should 
 that be called a play, which is compact of malice and rob- 
 bery ? Undoubtedly they that write of the first inventions 
 of things have good cause to suppose Lucifer, prince of de- 
 vils, to be the first inventor of dice-playing, and hell the 
 place where it was found, although some do write that it was 
 first invented by Attalus. For what better allective could 
 Lucifer devise, to allure and bring men pleasantly into 
 damnable servitude, than to purpose to them, in form of a 
 play, his principal treasury wherein the more part of sin is 
 contained, and all goodness and virtue confounded ? 
 
 " The first occasion to play, is tediousness of virtuous 
 occupation. Immediately succeedeth coveting of another 
 man's goods, which they call playing : thereto is annexed 
 
Accomplishments.] Notes. 407 
 
 avarice and strait keeping, which they call winning ; soon 
 after cometh swearing, in renting the members of God, 
 which they name nobleness (for they will say, he that swear- 
 eth deep sweareth like a lord!) then followeth fury or rage, 
 which they call courage : among them cometh inordinate 
 watch, which they name painfulness; he bringeth in glut- 
 tony, and that is good fellowship ; and after cometh sleep 
 superfluous, called among them natural rest ; and he some- 
 times bringeth in lechery, which is now named dalliance. 
 The name of this treasury is very idleness, the. door where- 
 of is left wide open to dice-players : if they hap to bring in 
 their company learning, virtuous business, liberality, pa- 
 tience, charity, temperance, good diet, or shamefastness, 
 they must leave them without the gates ; for evil custom, 
 which is the porter, will not suffer them to enter." 
 
 " How many gentlemen, how many merchants, have in 
 this damnable pastime consumed their substance as well by 
 their own labours, as by their parents, with great study and 
 painful travel in a long time acquired, and finished their 
 lives in debt and penury? how many goodly and bold yeo- 
 men hath it brought unto theft, whereby they have pre- 
 vented the course of nature, and died by the order of the 
 laws miserably ? 
 
 Sir Thomas Elyot's Boke of the Goternour, p. 19 
 rev. 80 rev. 81. edit. 1553. 
 
408 Supplemental [Fool and 
 
 Of the Ancient Fool and Morris Dancer. 
 
 " There chanced to stand by a certain 
 jesting parasite or scoffer, which would seem 
 to resemble and counterfeit the Fool." — 
 p. 90. 
 
 When the note upon " Fools," subjoined to this text, 
 was written, it had not been my good fortune to see Mr. 
 Douce's " Illustrations of Shakspeare and of Ancient 
 Manners :" — this admirable work having been published 
 after the text of the Utopia had been printed. 
 
 Mr. Douce's dissertation " On the Clowns and Fools of 
 Shakspeare," is followed by another " On the Gesta Roma- 
 norum," and a third " On the Ancient English Morris 
 Dance :" to the first and third dissertations, the following 
 cuts, which perhaps had escaped the recollection of Mr. 
 Douce, may not be considered an uninteresting Supple- 
 mental Illustration. 
 
 Theirs* engraving of the Fool, I obtained in an ob- 
 scure shop, amidst some excellent Albert Durers; and 
 from the old French text printed at the back of it (it 
 being cut out of a book), and the admirable style of the 
 cut itself, I should conjecture it to be upwards of 250 
 years old, and probably executed by Melchoir Lorich.* 
 
 * We have sometimes a representation of the fool, 
 in the ornamented title-pages of books printed at the com- 
 mencement of the l6th century : especially of those printed 
 
Morrice Dancer.'] Notes. 
 
 409 
 
 The second, of the Morris-Dancer, is cu- 
 rious, inasmuch as it shews how the fondness 
 for the handkerchief, among the morris-dan- 
 cers in the middle of the 17 th century, had 
 superseded the use of bells, and other orna- 
 ments for the hand. The under-written 
 verses give us a lively description of the 
 
 by Froben — of which Erasmus was the author or editor, 
 and his friend Hans Holbein most probably the designer. 
 
 3g 
 
410 
 
 Supplemental [Fool, &c. 
 
 personal appearance of this important cha- 
 racter. 
 
 With a noyse and a din, 
 
 Comes the Maurice-Dancer in : 
 With a fine linnen shirt, but a Buckram skin. 
 
 Oh ! he treads out such a peale, 
 
 From his paire of legs of veale, 
 The quarters are idols to him. 
 
 Nor do those Knaves inviron 
 
 Their toes with so much iron, 
 T'will ruine a Smith to shoe him. 
 
 Ay, and then he flings about, 
 
 His sweat and his clout, 
 The wiser think it two ells ; 
 
 While the Yeomen find it meet, 
 
 That he jangle at his (eet. 
 The fore-horses right eare jewels. 
 
 Recreation for Ingenious Head Pieces, SfC edit. 1667. 
 12mo. Sign. X. rev. 
 
Courtier.] Notes. 411 
 
 The Courtier. 
 
 Page 99 — Add the following to the note upon Cour- 
 tiers, from Boiastuau. 
 
 *• A neare resemblance (as if sprung from one stemme) 
 may this sweet-breath'd bird seeme to have to our Court 
 Popinjay : whose sense most commonly consists in scent. 
 His action or gesture is nothing but cringes ; his breath an 
 ayry complement; his rinde (to make this cinnamon- 
 similitude more full) worth all his body beside. 
 
 When Jupiter's and Juno's wedding was solemnised of 
 old — to make the solemnity more complete, the Gods 
 were all invited to the Feast, and many Noblemen beside. 
 Among the rest came Chrysalus, a Persian Prince, bravely 
 attended ; rarely accoutred, rich in golden attires, in gay 
 robes, with a majesticall presence, a formall posture, a 
 portly encounter, but otherwise an asse. The Gods see- 
 ing him come in such pompe and state, rose up to give 
 him place, Ex habitu hominem metientes. But Jupiter per- 
 ceiving what he was, a light, phantastick, idle fellow, 
 turned him and his proud followers into Butterflies. And 
 so they continue still [for ought I know to the contrary, 
 if the fiction hold with the verity] roving about in pied 
 coats, and are called Chrysalides by the wiser sort of men; 
 that is, Golden out-sides, Drones, Flies, and things of no 
 worth, &c." 
 
 " These silken gulls, who are only to be valued by what 
 they wearc, not what they are, in this very morall receive 
 their censure. They prease into the highest places; con- 
 verse with eminent'st persons ; thrust themselves upon 
 
412 Supplemental [Ancient 
 
 greatest businesse ; but fall off still with some palpable dis- 
 grace to themselves/' 
 Braithwait's Nursery for Gentry, p. 182. edit. 1638. 
 
 Ancient English Exercises. 
 
 To the note from Elyot's Castel of Health, at p. 156. 
 might have been added an extract or two from Fitz- 
 Stephen and Stow ; but Sir Thomas Elyot is an author 
 who is not so generally known. And yet the reader would 
 have probably condemned me, if I had suppressed the fol- 
 lowing curious extract from Fitz-Stephen, (who wrote in 
 the reign of Hen. II.) which seems to be tacitly assented 
 to by Stow as being the practice of his own (Queen Eliza- 
 beth's) days. 
 
 '* In the holidays, all the summer, the youths are exer- 
 cised in leaping, dancing, shooting, wrestling, casting 
 the stone, and practising their shields. The maidens, as 
 soon as the moon rises, dance to the guitar, and with their 
 nimble movements shake the ground.* In winter, every 
 
 * The Horatian language of old Fitz-Stephen is as 
 follows ; (according to Hearne's reprint of it, at the end of 
 Leland's Itinerary, vol. viii. p. 46. edit. 1770.) u Puel- 
 larum Citherasa ducit choros, et pcde libero pulsatur tellus, 
 usque imminente luna." Dr. l J egge, in his translation of 
 this work, has a note upon the three last words, and would 
 infomate, with Strype, that it should be rendered until moon- 
 light — alledging, that it seems extraordinary, in summer, 
 
Exercises. 1 Notes. 413 
 
 holy day before dinner, the boars prepared for brawn are 
 set to fight; or else bulls and bears are baited." 
 See Fitz-Stephen's Description of London, 4to. 1772. 
 Pegge's, edit. p. 49, 50. and Stow's Survey of London, 
 edit. 1603, p. 93. Strype's edit. 1720. vol. i. p. 247. 
 
 Female Accomplishments. 
 
 " — weigh and consider with yourselves 
 how great a part of the people in other 
 countries liveth idle. First, almost all 
 women; which be the half of the whole 
 numbers." — p. 181. 
 
 " Beauty, strength, nimbleness, these, as 
 peculiar and pleasant gifts of nature, they 
 make much of." — p. 260. 
 
 " To despise the comliness of beauty, to 
 
 when the days are long, the maids should not begin to 
 dance till moon-light." But it had escaped this learned an- 
 tiquary, that though summer days are long, they are 
 nevertheless hot — and that the cool of the evening, and the 
 radiance of the moon, are the more natural incitements to 
 dance. Something more might be ad\anced upon the con- 
 struction of the sentence, as it stands in Hearne, but per- 
 haps " more than enough" has been already said. 
 
414 Supplemental [Female 
 
 waste the bodily strength, to turn nimble- 
 ness into slothfulness, to consume and make 
 feeble the body, to do injury to health, and 
 to reject the pleasant motions, this of nature 
 to do, they think a point of extreme mad- 
 ness !" — p. 261. 
 
 These texts of the Utopia, from different places, but con- 
 centrating in one object, viz. Female Accomplishments, are 
 selected in order to introduce the following striking picture 
 of a wise and good woman, from Dr. Whitlock's ZftO- 
 TOMIA." — Lond. 1654, 8$o. — an amusing and well written, 
 but very inaccurately printed book. 
 
 "Next being good, she counts the addition wise, another 
 part of a woman's portion : and therefore (though she first 
 dress herself by the Myrrour of Mirrours), she looks for 
 Modes and Dresses in that exchange of Books whence she 
 culls the best. She knoweth no reason books should be 
 engrossed by Men, or that time spent in them is not as 
 good as to be a whole forenoon, Narcissus-U ke, admiring a 
 good — or, Botcher-like, mending a bad — face in her glass, 
 Those dead monitors of her eternity she loves ; and in- 
 deed when she is minded of it by any alive, thinks it not 
 necessary that presently she should conceit herself in a 
 church — or looks about to spy the black serge or cassock of 
 him that speaks — but thinks it might as gracefully tip the 
 tongue of any He or She that retains to corruption, and 
 these dying elements. She counts it as pleasant to con- 
 verse with Historians, Poets, Philosophers, &c. though now 
 rotten, as with the finest perfumed " Your humble-servant- 
 
Accomplishments. ] Notes. 415 
 
 Madam" alive ! Her knowledge, by discretion, she tem- 
 pers to a mean, that learning's engrosser among the males 
 might allow her; and corrects by it exuberances of fancy, 
 or desires, which various reading might imprint on such 
 waxy molds, &c. Concerning her beauty, she will owe it to 
 none but nature; she doth not borrow it from art; it sleeps 
 with her in her bed not closset; it maketh never an item 
 (jig by joal with Plaisters or Syring) in her Apothecary's 
 bill. That beauty she hath, she overvalues not — and counts 
 it part of it so to do; according to St. Austin — " She is 
 truly fair that knows it not !" 
 
 " She can preach the frailty of it to herself, as well as 
 any cast-off lover ever could r and knows, as well as he, 
 a pin may raze it into deformity, or the sting of a bee alter 
 it even from knowledge for a time. If she paints, she bor- 
 roweth from modesty the blushing red ; pale, from fear of 
 doing any thing that might stain her honour, or defile her 
 conscience, &c. She is of the mind of Philo's wife, who 
 being asked why she alone did not wear rich attire, since 
 she might, answered — " The husband's virtue was the wife's 
 best ornament," p. 351, 2, 3. 
 
 Ale and Beer drinking. 
 " There be neither wine taverns, nor ale- 
 houses, 8cc." — p. 212. 
 
 To the long note subjoined to this passage, as here re- 
 ferred to, and in particular to the observations drawn from 
 Gascoigne and Peacham, I add the following: 
 
416 Supplemental [Ale and 
 
 From the famous u Regimen Sanitatis Salerni," written 
 by John of Milan, about the end of the 1 1th century, and 
 translated by Thomas Paynell, in 1575, (a book of 
 which Ames and Herbert were ignorant, and for the loan of 
 which I am indebted to the ever-prompt kindness of Mr. 
 Heber), the reader is presented with the following account 
 
 " Of the Qualities of Good Ale. 
 
 Non ut acetosa cervicia, sed bene clara 
 De validis cocta granis satis ac veterata. 
 
 u This texte declareth v thynges, by which one maye 
 knowe good ale. The fyrst is, that it be not sower, for 
 that hurteth the stomake. A sower thinge, as Avicen 
 sayeth in many places, hurteth the senowes, and the sto- 
 make is a membre full of senowes, specially about the 
 brimme or mouth. The seconde thynge is, that ale must 
 be clere ; for troubled ale is a stopper, and hurteth them 
 over much that have the stone; it fatteth and enflateth 
 and maketh one shorte winded, and engendreth muche 
 fleume. The thyrde thinge is, that ale should be made 
 of good corne that is not corrupt; that is to say, of 
 the beste barley, wheate, or ootes : for the better the 
 corne is, the better is the humour thereof engendred. 
 The fourthe thinge is that ale ought to be well sodde: for 
 that causeth it the better to be digested and more amyable 
 to be receyved of nature : and the inconveniences thereof 
 growyng are the better borne. For if the ale be not wel 
 sodde, it engendreth the ventosities in the bealy, gnawyng, 
 enflation, and colycke. The fifth thynge is, that ale ought 
 to be stale and well pourged. For new ale engendreth the 
 
Beer.] Notes. 417 
 
 same hurte that ale doth the whiche is not well sodde : and 
 also, doth lyght breade the strayne coylyon." — fol. liiii. 
 
 In " The Philosopher's Banquet," published in l6S3 } p. 
 25. we have this sagacious disquisition about Ale and Beer. 
 " Ale," (as saith Rases), " especially made of barley, 
 weekens the nerves and sinews : causeth dullnesse and 
 head ache ; yet provoketh urine, and represseth the heat of 
 drunkennesse, That which is made of wheat, mixed with 
 parsley and other herbs, is adjudged best of all men ; as 
 that which is only puffed up with forcible ingredients, to 
 shew a strength in weakness, wherein no virtue or good- 
 ness remaineth else, is accounted worst. Of which one 
 writeth ; 
 
 ALE/br antiquity may plead and stand, 
 Before the conquest, conquering in this land : 
 Beer, that is younger brother to her age, 
 Was then not borne, nor ripe to be her page : 
 In every peddling village, borough, towne, 
 Ale play'd at foot-ball, and tript all lads down : 
 And though she's rivall'd now by Beer, her mate, 
 Most doctors wait on her, that shews her state." 
 
 In that curious and much coveted collection of mis- 
 cellaneous poetry, published in the middle of the 17th cen- 
 tury, under the title of " Recreation for Ingenious Head 
 Pieces, or a Pleasant Grove for their Wits to walk in,'' we 
 have two rival panegyrics upon the virtues of Sack and 
 Ale. In the first, Ale is thus abused : 
 
 This muddy drench of Ale does taste too much 
 Of earth ; the malt retains a scurvy touch 
 3 H 
 
418 Supplemental [Ale and 
 
 Of the dull hand that sows it ; and I fear 
 There's heresy in Hops: give blockheads beer, 
 And silly Ignoramus ; such as think 
 There's Powder-treason in all Spanish drink ! 
 Call Sack an idol! we will kiss the cup 
 For fear the Conventicle be blown up 
 With Superstition : away with the Brew-house alms, 
 Whose best mirth is six shillings beer, and qualms. 
 
 The Answer o/Ale to the Challenge of Sack. 
 
 Come, all you brave Wights, 
 That are dubbed Ale^knights, 
 
 Now set out yourselves in fight : 
 And let them that crack 
 In the praises of Sack, 
 
 Know Malt is of mickle might. 
 
 Though Sack they define, 
 To be holy, divine, 
 
 Yet is it but natural liquor; 
 Ale bath for its part, 
 An addition of art 
 
 To make it drink thinner or thicker. 
 
 Sack's fiery fume 
 
 Doth waste and consume 
 
 Men's humidum radicale ; 
 It scaldeth their livers, 
 It breeds burning fevers, 
 
 Proves vinum venerium reale, 
 
Sack.] 
 
 Notes. 419 
 
 But history gathers, 
 From aged forefathers 
 
 That Ales the true liquor of life; 
 Men liv'd long in health, 
 And preserved their wealth, 
 
 Whilst Barley-broth only was rife.* 
 
 Sack quickly ascends, 
 And suddenly ends— 
 
 What company came for at first : 
 And that which yet worse is, 
 It empties men's purses 
 
 Before it half quenches their thirst. 
 
 Ale is not so costly> 
 Although that the most lye 
 
 Too long by the oil of the barley ; 
 Yet may they part late, 
 At a reasonable rate, 
 
 Though they come in the morning early. 
 
 Sack makes men from words 
 Fall to drawing of swords, 
 
 And quarrelling endeth their quaffing; 
 Whilst Dagger-Ale barrels 
 Bear off many quarrels, 
 
 And often turn chiding to laughing. 
 
 * Common— frequent, abounding. 
 
 
420 Supplemental [Ale and Sack. 
 
 Sack's drink for our masters : 
 All may be Ale-tasters ! 
 
 Good things the more common the better: 
 Sack's but single broth : 
 Ale's meat, drink, and cloth, 
 
 Say they that know never a letter ! 
 
 But not to entangle 
 
 Old friends, till they wrangle 
 
 And quarrel for other men's pleasure — 
 Let Ale keep his place 
 And let Sack have his grace, 
 
 So that neither exceed the due measure."* 
 
 Sign. A. a. 5. 
 
 * This is followed by a still more humourous jeu 
 d'esprit, shewing " The triumph of' Tobacco over Sack 
 and Ale," which begin ihus ; 
 
 Nay, soft, by your leaves ! 
 Tobacco bereaves 
 
 You both of the garland : forbear it ! 
 You are two to one — 
 Yet Tobacco alone 
 
 Is like both to win it, and wear it ! 
 &c. &c. &c. 
 It is a little surprising, that, in the present rage for the 
 literature of our ancestors, no bookseller has had the cou- 
 rage to reprint [subject to the omissions which a judicious 
 editor would suggest], this amusing and exceedingly rare 
 poetical miscellany. Perhaps there is no clean copy of it 
 in existence. 
 
Notes. 421 
 
 A Life according to Nature. 
 
 " And they define virtue to be — life or- 
 dered according to the prescript of nature." 
 
 p. 239- 
 
 The following old French verses give us a pleasing idea 
 of a quiet, rural life, " according to the prescript of 
 nature;" 
 *• Scais-tu, mon Chanlecy, comme j'aurois envie 
 De vivre, pour passer hereusement la vie ? 
 Suffisamment des biens, amassez sans labeur, 
 Par liberal! te de quelque donateur : 
 Voir mes champs non ingrats fertiles chasque annee, 
 Avoir tousiours bon feu dedans ma cheminee, 
 Haranguer rarement, n' avoir aucun procez, 
 I/esprit bien a- repos, ne faire point d'excez, 
 Estre en bonne same, le corps net et agile, 
 Sage simplicite, tenir table facile, 
 Sans art de cuisinier, et encore je voudroy 
 Des amis, ny plus grands, ny plus petits que moy ; 
 Une joyeuse nuit, n'etre toutefois yvre, 
 Un lict chaste et gaillard, de tous soucis delivre, 
 Le sommeil gracieux rendant courtes les nuits, 
 Vouloir tant seulement estre ce que je suis, 
 
 I will just add that another humourous song in praise of 
 Tobacco may be found in the second volume of Mr. 
 Beloe's entertaining Anecdotes of Literature, &c. p. 10. 
 where may be perused many sprightly " Old Songs" from 
 the Garrick Collection. 
 
422 Supplemental [Hawking. 
 
 Ne souhaiter la mort, et moins encor la craindre, 
 Je ne te scaurois mieux tous mes souhaits depeindre ; 
 Que si je ne les puis entierement avoir, 
 J'en pren ce que je puis, selon que je peux voir." 
 
 See pt. iii. p. 35. of lhat eccentric and witty book, called 
 u Les Bigarrures et Touches du Seigneur des Records" 
 Rouen, 12mo. l6l6. Five parts: with separate title 
 pages. 
 
 There is a good deal in these lines which reminds us of 
 Horace's Ode, " Bealus Me qui procul negotiis, fyc." — 
 of which Pope (when he was a boy of twelve years of age) 
 has given so beautiful an imitation. 
 
 Hawking — p. 249. 
 
 To the long note upon hawking here referred to, may be 
 added the following curious admonition to the keepers of 
 " faukons" in the middle of the l6ih century. 
 
 " But I would our faukons might be satisfied with the 
 division of their prey, as the faukons of Thacia were, that 
 they needed not to devour the hens of this realm, in such 
 number, and that unless it be shortly considered, and 
 that faukons be brought to a more homely diet, it is 
 right likely, that within a short space of years, our familiar 
 poultry shall be as scarce, as be now partridge and pheasant. 
 I speak not this in dispraise of the faukons but of them, 
 which keepeth them like Cokneys. The mean gentlemen, 
 and honest householders, which care for the gentle enter- 
 tainment of their friends, do find in their dish that I speak 
 
Hawking.'] Notes. 423 
 
 truth, and noblemen shall right shortly espy it, when they 
 come suddenly to their friend's house, unpurveyed for lack 
 of long warning. '—Elyot's Boke of the Governour, p. 6l. 
 
 rev. 
 
 The subjoined figure is that of a man who used to attend 
 the sport with hawks, or to sell them in the streets, thus 
 arrayed. It is taken from the " Devices Heroiques de Para- 
 din" edit, m.d.lxiu. fol. 173. A nearly similar figure 
 sometimes appears in Wouverman's paintings of this subject. 
 
 Fitz-S tephens tells us that the good citizens of London, 
 in his time " delighted themselves in hawks and hounds"— 
 and Stow, in Q. Elizabeth's time, observes, that " sliding 
 upon the ice is now but child's play ; but in hanking aud 
 hunting many grave citizens, at this present, have great de- 
 light, and do rather want leisure than good will to follow 
 it."— Survey of London, p. 94, 6. edit. l6'03. 
 
424 Supplemental [Use of 
 
 The Properties of the Soul. 
 
 " To the soul they give intelligence, and 
 that delectation that cometh of the contem- 
 plation of truth." — p. 254. 
 
 In the year lfj42, was published at Cambridge, a thin 
 duodecimo volume, written by H. M. Master of Arts, and 
 Fellow of Christ's colledge ; called " YYXfiAlA Platonica ; 
 or a Platonicall Song of the Soul." In this poem, divided 
 into Books and Cantos, in the Spenserian measure, the 
 offices and objects of the soul, are sometimes very beauti- 
 fully drawn. — It is full of Platonic mysticism ; but there 
 are passages in it of uncommon vigour and brilliancy. I 
 suspect that Thomson, in his Castle of Indolence, had his 
 eye as often upon this poem as upon Spenser. The simila- 
 rities of thought and metre are frequent. 
 
 Of the proper Use of Wine. 
 
 All the Utopians grant it [sc. eating and 
 drinking] to be a right sovereign pleasure ; 
 and, as you would say, the foundation and 
 ground of all pleasure ; as which even alone 
 is able to make the state and condition of life 
 delectable and pleasant," — p. 255- and see 
 Bullein's commendation of wine. — p. 259. 
 
 The late Dr. Darwin (as I have heard his friends say — 
 and as I believe he somewhere insinuates, if not expressly 
 
Wine.] Notes. 425 
 
 avows, in his Zoonomia,) declared that excess of eating 
 was not pernicious — but that the mischieflay in drinking — 
 which, in every modification of strong liquor, he strenuously 
 opposed. Dr. Thomas Whitaker, a physician who lived a 
 century and half before him, had an opinion so entirely 
 different with respect to the drinking of wine, that he pub- 
 lished a commendatory work upon it, under the title of 
 M The Blood of the Grape." Printed in 1654. 12mo. 
 
 The author very candidly begins by telling us his own 
 case — " I could render (says he) an empyricall argument 
 from my own affect, which was then an " Atrophia totius 
 corporis" or consumption of the whole body — and left by 
 the most perite physicians as incurable. My valetudinary 
 temper then, being until the age of thirty years, affrighted at 
 the sight of one glass of wine; being a strick observer of 
 such advice as must be accompted more learned than my 
 young studies could produce. But when I was left to my 
 own free choice of any thing my reason could present, or 
 appetite require, upon those grounds of philosophy which 
 I had meditated. J did cast my anchor at the root of this 
 plant ; and, by the constant use of this juice, recovered, in 
 the space of twelve months, perfection of cure; and have in 
 such state of health continued twenty-two years after, and 
 void of a consumptive disposition to this day." He then 
 says that " This is a nectar and ambrosia fur princes, and 
 as pleasant contemplation for physitians, learnedly to un- 
 dertake the practice of it," &c. p. 95, 6. 
 
 But, at p. 107, he prudently cautions the reader that 
 " the principal difficulty will be in obtaining pure wine 
 without sophistication : for which cause (says he) I can cor- 
 dially commend, as much as desire, the Scotish severity 
 3 1 
 
426 Supplemental \Wine % &c. 
 
 established among the English nation— and that the sophis- 
 ticators of wine may suffer punishment above any ordinary 
 thief; as not only picking the purse of all nations, but with 
 a secret venene mixture paynfully afflicting them — no ve- 
 hicle being so proper to conveigh any malignity or vene- 
 mous quality to the universal spirits of any creature, as 
 wine." 
 
 Our author is very curious about the different sorts of 
 wine for different periods in life. " Adolescency being of 
 a middle temper and predominancy, neither hot nor cold, 
 nor moist nor dry, will moderately — and with observation 
 of time, clime, and quantities— admit of white, claret, and 
 rhenish wines, without any fear. Juventus, being of a 
 temper more hot and dry, must, with the former aspects, 
 apply itself to the fo renamed names ; and if they sensibly 
 appear not sufficiently moistening, it is sooner affected by 
 the addition of a little of 'fountain water. Virile age, from 
 35 to 49, broacheth a vessel of more rich claret, and 
 passeth out with a taste of the smallest Sack ; which 
 Senectus maketh more strong by more rich sack, muscadins 
 and aligants, and continueth their use to the utter extent 
 and period of life." p. 101, 2. At pp. 86,7, 8. we have an 
 account of the wonderful effects of the " Blood of the 
 Grape," in curing a melancholy Jew, a feverish Cardinal, 
 an epileptic young Gentlewoman, a young Spaniard in a 
 burning fever, and a citizen of Luca, afflicted with vertigo 
 and dizziness, &c. 
 
 " Wine (says a somewhat earlier writer) yeelds good 
 nourishment, keepes the body in health : neither is there 
 any meat or drinkefound so comfortable unto it, for the na- 
 turall heat and familiarity it hath therewithal! ; exceedingly 
 
Pleasures, &c] Notes. 427 
 
 strengthening digestion, the heat thereof being like unto our 
 natutall heat; and therefore soon converted into pure and 
 perfect blood. Moreover, it clarities all thicke, grosse, and 
 corrupt blood, and opens and clears the entrances and pas- 
 sages throughout the whole body, especially the veines; 
 opening the stoppings likewise in the pores and pipes of the 
 body ; driving away the dark mists, fumes, and follies be- 
 gotten of sorrow between the fancy and the braine; 
 strengthening all the members of the body ; chearing the 
 heait, and making the mind forgetfull of sorrow ; causing 
 mirth, audacity, and sharpnesse of wit, enlightening the 
 understanding ; but all these with moderation. We con- 
 clude, in the generality, of the vertue and praise of wine, 
 that ihe use of it is excellent, — the abuse set aside." Phi- 
 losopher's Banquet, London 1633. 12mo. p. 21. 
 
 *' Many good thyngs come by drinking of wine sobrely ; 
 that is to say, the voydyng of coler, the quickeniuge of the 
 corporal might and wyt, and the aboundance of the subtyle 
 spintes." 
 
 " Regimen Sanitatis Salern?" translated by T. Pa vnell, 
 
 1575. Fol. liiii. a work of which some slight account 
 
 is given at p. 4 i 6. ante. 
 
 Pleasures of the Mind. 
 " They embrace chiefly the pleasures 
 of the mind : for them they count the chief- 
 est and most principal of all. — p. 558. 
 
 If the reader be anxious to peruse one of the best disser- 
 tations extant, on Mental Accomplishments, let him examine 
 
428 Supplemental [Pleasures of 
 
 u An Introduction to the Use of Books" prefixed to an 
 early Catalogue of books,* and described in the note be- 
 neath. 
 
 **. Let us now (says the author) see the excellency of 
 Learning and Knowledge ; and should I fathom this depth, 
 my shallow capacity would be drowned 'ere I came nigh 
 the bottom : 1 should be lost in the pursuit: should I travel 
 over these vast Perrenian mountains, I should be too long 
 a coming to my journey's end, and perhaps tire the reader 
 to go with me ; but I'll court brevity. Herein consists a 
 part of their excellency, that they cannot be purchased 
 with riches or monies, but with the sweat of the mind only; 
 for were it not so, fools that are rich would be wise men, 
 and all that have monies would be scholars ; which is too 
 great a paradox to interpret. And herein lies another part 
 of the excellency of them — that, such minds as aie soaked 
 in learning and knowledge, have their intellectuals clarified ; 
 their natures softened ; reason, which lay fallow and in 
 theory only, is now forced into practice. That which was 
 
 * " A Catalogue of the most vendible books in England, 
 orderly and alphabetically digested, &c. The like work 
 never yet performed by any." London 1658, 4to. As the 
 pages of this book are not numbered, it will be necessary 
 for the purchaser to see that it has an " Epistle Dedicatory," 
 and an " Epistle to the Reader," which precede the " In- 
 troduction to the use of Books." In this Introduction, al- 
 most every popular English writer, up to the period when 
 it was composed, is quoted or referred to. Such an excel- 
 lent treatise has never since accompanied any bookseller's 
 catalogue. 
 
the Mind.] Notes. 429 
 
 in bullion, is now coined and minted, having the stamp of 
 majesty put upon it : the mind now flourishes with strong 
 abilities ; is made capable to help and guide others, and 
 itself. Others are better, himself no worse. In the full 
 view of this, Cicero cries out " Oh Wisdom, the guide of our 
 life, the enemy to vice, and supporter qfvertue." Sign D. 4. 
 rev. and E. 
 
 Again : " These are the true riches which cannot be taken 
 from me ; which are situate from the finger of the greedy 
 plunderer. The evil fate of cloudy times cannot make me 
 compound for these riches within, nor can the sequesterer 
 deprive me of a thought; they are beyond his reach. The 
 freedom of my soul hath a charter to uphold it, that envy 
 itself cannot touch nor break. I can traffic for knowledge 
 in the midst of fiery combustions and perturbations, and 
 no cannon can reach me. I can sit in a contemplative cabin, 
 and no martial alarm can disturb me. These riches can- 
 not be decimated. " That's my happiness" — says a noble 
 mind thus loaden, — " I can hide the greatest treasures in 
 the world, and yet carry them with me, and not a burden 
 more than the feathers of a bird, or the leaves of a tree." 
 Sign. E. 1 . rev. 
 
 Once more : " Wisdom and Knowledge are the very load- 
 stones and attractives of all honor ; these are they which 
 aggrandise a man's acceptation to the most wise with great 
 affection and courtesie. His worth is perpetuated with the 
 remembrance of honor, when his dust is offensive. The 
 beauty and lustre that learning and knowledge sets upon 
 him that enjoys them, are their natural escutcheons. He 
 that is thus qualified, is honored at home in the city where 
 
430 Supplemental [Marriage 
 
 be Jives, beloved by his country, and is indeed the honour 
 of it. It's better to be envied for thy parts above others, 
 than pitied and laughed at for thy ignorance For what is 
 it, I pray tell me, that Caesar stands on record so much as 
 for his learning ? So Homer, and all the royal philoso- 
 phers, and thousands that can now be only reverenced in 
 their graves — their thoughts are as perfumes to study."— 
 Sign. E. 3. 
 
 Consult also " Learning's Apology," p. 138. of Dr. Whit- 
 lock's znoTOMlA, or " Observations on the present Manners 
 of the English" quoted at p. 414. ante. 
 
 Marriage Ceremonies and Festivals. 
 Page 282. 
 
 In his account of the Utopian marriages, More says no- 
 thing of the feasts and merriments, which, in his own coun- 
 try, usually attended them at the period when he wrote. 
 
 Strutt, in the third volume of his " Manners and Cus- 
 toms," p. 154, has referred us to some authorities about the 
 marriage processions and presents of our ancestors, — but in 
 regard to the merry makings, he does not appear to have 
 consulted a rare bock which would have afforded him some 
 curious information upon the subject. I allude to Cover- 
 da le's "Christian State of Matrimony," printed by Awde- 
 ley, in the black letter, A. D. 1575. The following account 
 will perfectly reconcile us to the superiority of modern mar- 
 riage festivals, even among the middling classes of society. 
 
Ceremonies^ &c] Notes. 431 
 
 ** Early in the morning the wedding people begin to ex- 
 ceede in superfluous eating and drinking, whereof they spit, 
 untill the half sermon be done. And when they come to 
 the preaching, they are halfe dronken ; some altogether : 
 therefore regard they not the preaching nor prayer, but 
 stand there only because of the custome. Such folkes also 
 do come unto the church with all maner of pomp and pride, 
 and gorgeousness of raiment and jewels. They come with 
 a great noyse of basens and drooms, wherewith they trouble 
 
 the whole church. And even as they come to the church, 
 
 so go they from the church again ; light, nice, in shamefull 
 pompe and vaine wantonnes." Fol. 58, rev. — 9« 
 
 " After the banket and feast, their beginneth a vaine, 
 mad, and unmanerly fashion ; for the bride must be brought 
 into an open dauncing place. Then is there such a running, 
 
 leaping and flinging among them ; that a man 
 
 might think all these dauncers had cast all shame behinde 
 them, and were become starke mad and out of their wits, 
 and that they were sworne to the devil's daunce. Then 
 must the poore bride keepe foote with all dauncers, and 
 refuse none, how scabbed, foule, dronken, rude, and shame- 
 les soever he be ! Then must she oft tymes heare and see 
 much wickednes, and many an uncomly word. And that 
 noyse and romblyng endureth even tyll supper." 
 
 " As for supper, looke how much shameles and dronken 
 the evening is more then the morning, so much the more 
 vice, exces, and misnurture is used at the supper. After 
 supper, must they begin to pipe and daunce again of anew. 
 And though the young persons (being weary of the babling 
 noyse and inconvenience,) come once towards their rest, 
 
432 Supplemental [Face- 
 
 yet can they have no quietness ! For a man shall find un- 
 manerly and restles people that wyll first go to their cham- 
 ber doore, and there syng vicious and naughty balates — that 
 the devil may have his whole triumphe now to the utter- 
 most !" Fol. 59. rev. 60. 
 
 This dissoluteness of manners may, by some, be sup- 
 posed to have been silently countenanced by the indelicate 
 phraseology of the marriage vow uttered at the altar, pre- 
 vious to the Reformation. Whoever happens to possess 
 Regnault's magnificent edition of the Catholic Prayer book 
 printed at Paris in 1529. [vid. fol. xlvi.] will have reason to 
 applaud the alteration which our venerable Reformers 
 introduced into the Liturgy in this particular. 
 
 Face-painting. 
 
 " Also as they count and reckon very 
 little wit to be in him that regardeth not na- 
 tural beauty and comeliness, so, to help the 
 same with paintings, is taken for a vain and 
 wanton pride." — p. 294. 
 
 When the long note upon face-painting was inserted 
 under this text, it did not occur to me to consult a singular 
 performance upon the subject, well known to collectors, 
 called " The Loathsomnesse of Long Haire: with an Ap- 
 pendix against painting spots, naked backs and breasts, SfC." 
 By Thomas Hall B. D. London 1654. 12mo. As a speci- 
 
painting. ] Notes, 433 
 
 men of the style and mode of reasoning of this author, the 
 reader is presented with the following : 
 
 " [Painting] is the badge of an harlot ; rotten posts are 
 painted, and gilded nutmegs are usually the worst. We 
 read but of one, in all the word of God, that ever painted 
 herself, and that was Jezebel. No wonder then that they 
 are ranged among harlots, who follow their guise. When 
 people intend to set or let their houses, they use to paint 
 them ; though I dare not say they are all harlots that paint, 
 yet this I may safely say, they have the harlot's badge, and 
 their chastity is questionable — and therefore let all who 
 would be accounted modest matrons, abhorre it. It becomes 
 not the spouse of Christ, to go in the harlot's guise. 
 
 " Lying is unlawful ; but this painting and disguising of 
 faces, is no better than dissimulation and lying. They teach 
 their faces to lye, and to shew what it is not ; and so by 
 deceiving others, at last they deceive themselves : getting 
 deformity instead of beauty ; losing that true beauty which 
 they have by nature. By their medicines and minerals, oft 
 making their faces to wrinkle, their colour pale, oft poyson- 
 ing their skin and dimming their eyesight."* P. 101 — 2. 
 
 * Some account of the author of this singular treatise 
 may be found in Wood's Athen. Oxon, vol. II. col. 345, — 
 where he is called " a lover of books and learning, and of 
 a retired and obscure life, never looking further than his 
 beloved King's-Norton (his Living). He warmly espoused 
 the Presbyterian Party, and seems to have been nearly as 
 zealous as Prynne in shewing his ridiculous aversion 
 to " Bishops and Ceremonies." A very high character 
 3 K 
 
434 Supplemental [Of ancient 
 
 Of Antient Fire Arms. 
 " Engines for war they devise and invent 
 wondrous wittily.^-p. 329. 
 
 Add to the note, subjoined to this text, the follow- 
 ing: 
 
 From the authorities quoted in Grose's " Military An- 
 tiquities" vol. i. 152. we learn that fire arms were first 
 used about the year 1460 — 7> as mentioned by Monstrelet 
 and Juvenal des Ursins. Fire arms discharged by the hand 
 were first called hand cannons, hand culverines, and hand 
 guns; they afterwards acquired the appellation of hackbuts, 
 harquebusses, muskets, and calivers, and lastly their pre- 
 sent name of Jirelocks. Edward IVth. first introduced 
 hand guns into this kingdom, by bringing with him, among 
 other forces, 300 Flemings armed with hand-guns." This 
 event took place in the year 1471. Dr. Anderson and 
 other writers assign the date of their introduction to the 
 year 1521, at the siege of Berwick. The musket is men- 
 tioned as a weapon of the infantry in Poland in the year 
 
 of him was given in Richard Moore's " Pearl in an Oyster- 
 shell, or pretious Treasure put in perishing Vessels." Lond. 
 8vo. 1675. Wood, ibid. 
 
 T. Hall, who was not destitute of classical learning, might 
 have quoted the celebrated reply of Gyges to Candaules, 
 when the latter wished him to view his wife naked, — w«g<* 
 y»p roiai AfJbr<7», aypSiov atxou irctpcc TOttr* aAAourt /3«§ta£0»o-», 
 x.au avctecc. o^Gwat yv/xyoHf is ai<rp^vn)» /AiyaA»» Qtpu.— Herod. 
 
 Clio. edit. Edinb. 1806. vol. 1. 29. 
 
Fire- Arms.] Notes. 435 
 
 1475. Pistols were so called from being made at Pistoja 
 or Pistoje in Tuscany : they are mentioned as early as the 
 year 1544. 
 
 Among the books referred to by Mr. Grose, in illustra- 
 tion of his amusing and very erudite work, I have 
 not been able to discover an ancient one (of which I 
 consider myself lucky in the possession of a copy) 
 called " Three Bookes of Colloquies concerning the Arte 
 of Shooting in great and small Peeces of Artillerie," 
 &c. &c. Translated by Cyprian Lucar, from the 
 original Italian of Tartaglia, and adorned with nume- 
 rous cuts. Impr. by J. Harrison, London, 1588. fol. The 
 translation of the Italian extends to p. 80: the original 
 appendix, named " Lucar Appendix," contains 120 
 pages. 
 
 The original, as it appears from Tartaglia's dedication, 
 was written in 1537 — and considering the then infantine 
 state of the art of gunnery, has uncommon merit — Lucar's 
 plates are very useful illustrations. The work was divided 
 into colloquies by the translator; and from the 25th. 
 (p. 46, 7» in which the Interlocutors are Schioppetiero and 
 Nicholas Tartaglia), I extract the following — for the benefit 
 of such modern sportsmen who may not be acquainted with 
 the skill, or the sporting dress, of our ancestors. 
 
 " Schioppetiero. Certainly you say true therein: for 
 you shall understand that I have, in my time, killed with 
 my peece 2000 little birdes, and my long experience 
 hath taught mee to know that which now you have told 
 mee. Therefore when I have occasion to shoote >at 
 any little birde sitting on a height upon a tree within a 
 
436 
 
 Supplemental [Fire-Arms. 
 
 convenient distance, I take my marke alwayes at the feete 
 of the bird — but when the bird sittes on a place lying level 
 with my peece, then I take my mark precisely at the body 
 of the birde — and by so doing I doe seldomtimes misse with 
 my shoote."* 
 
 * Herbert has accurately described the title of this 
 work, but a great deal of curious remark and interesting 
 quotation is connected with it. It was preceded by a 
 somewhat similar work, called " N. Machiavd's Art of 
 War," translated by Peter Whitehorne, 4to. 1560, 
 which has an admirable engraving for the title-page, 
 chiefly in the outline. The name of Niclas Inglande is 
 printed beneath ; a name, which, if it be the engraver's, 
 has escaped the researches of all the writers upon the art 
 of engraving which I have had an opportunity of con- 
 sulting. 
 
Notes. 437 
 
 Omnipotence of the Deity. 
 
 " Him they call the father of all. To him 
 alone they attribute the beginnings, the in- 
 creasings, the proceedings, the changes, and 
 the ends of all things."— p. 337. 
 
 Dr. Whitaker, in a book which has been before noticed, 
 (vide p. 409.) and which, from its title, does not seem to 
 be calculated to afford a quotation analagous to the above 
 text, has the following just remark. " That therefore the 
 vicissitudes and actions of things and humane nature, are 
 not by chance, but by the ordination of the Almighty, 
 ought to be a principle embraced by all Christian people; 
 and that God is the omnipotent and eternal fabricator of 
 the whole universe out of nothing: as is affirmed by divine 
 testimony. This edifice being so powerfully erected, is 
 also by the same efficacy conserved ; who hath also ap- 
 pointed to every created thing both a beginning and end, 
 or termination of subsisting and moving; and doth take 
 notice not only of principal but also of subsequent causes 
 of things." — The Blood of the Grape, p. 119. 
 
 But I entreat the reader to examine (if he be fortunate 
 enough to possess the book), " The French Academy of 
 Primaudaye: a work written in a style of peculiarly 
 impressive eloquence — and which, not very improbably, 
 was the foundation of Derham's and Paley's Natural 
 Theology. It has been before alluded to at p. 287. 
 
438 Supplemental 
 
 A virtuous Fame. 
 
 " And in the same place they set up a 
 pillar of stone, with the dead man's titles 
 therein engraved. When they be come 
 home, they rehearse his virtuous manners 
 and his good deeds. — They think that this 
 remembrance of the virtue and goodness of 
 the dead, doth vehemently provoke and en- 
 force the living to virtue." — p. 352. 
 
 The following remarkably strong passage upon this sub- 
 ject should not be withheld from the reader. " No matter 
 in which of the elements the body lodgeth, so long as the 
 soul rests in Abraham's bosom. It is the virtue we leave 
 behind, or rather carry with us, that is immortal. A good 
 fame is the best odour, and a good name is a precious 
 ointment which will condite our bodies best, and preserve 
 our memories to all eternity. Such a lasting monument as 
 this would better have preserved our Eighth luxurious 
 Henry, than Wolsey's half-finished monument at Windsor; 
 which neither his own posterity, nor any of his successors 
 since, thought it worth the while to perfect. Poor Lazarus, 
 as he had the starry heaven for his canopy, so was that his 
 tomb: though he was fed at the door amongst the dogs, 
 yet he lay buried in bis mother s lap, attended hence with 
 his own innocence, and a guard of angels." 
 
 " It is not then eulogiums, panegyrick orations, dirges, 
 
Alchemy^ &c] Notes. 439 
 
 epitaphs, heralds, mourners, obelisks, obsequies, or mauso- 
 laean monuments, so well as their own coins wherein they 
 are effigiated, can eternize princes. Let them live exem- 
 plar monuments. Let their prince-like acts and actions 
 write their epitaphs, and be their chief monuments; since 
 only virtue " post funera vivit :" and ** — coelo tegitur, qui 
 non habet urnam." For, doubtless, that man's bones on 
 the North Church Yard rests in more quiet than his that 
 lie entombed in the Chancel.'' 
 Paradoxical Assertions, &c. Lond. 1659- 12mo. p. 44 — 5. 
 For an account of this work, see p. lxii. note. 
 
 Soothsaying^ Astrology, Alchemy, Magic, 
 Witchcraft. 
 
 " They utterly despise and mock sooth- 
 sayings, and divinations of things to come, 
 and all other divination of vain superstition." 
 p. 357. 
 
 Among these " vain superstitions," More ranks Al- 
 chemy, as well as Astrology. The latter is expressly no- 
 ticed at p. 233. I beg leave to direct the reader's 
 attention to a very extraordinary book " Of Natural 
 and Supernatural Things," written by Basilius Valen- 
 tin us, a Benedictine Monk, and translated by Daniel 
 Cable, London, 12mo. 1670. The author tells us, (at p. 
 6l, 2.) that he does " not give himself out for one who 
 
440 Supplemental [Alchemy, 
 
 knows to calculate the course of the heavens — for (says he) 
 I should spend my time in my cell in prayer; but that the 
 spare hours after my devotion is ended, may not be spent 
 in vain, I have ordered and proposed it as my aim and in- 
 tent to exercise myself, and to spend those hours in the 
 knowledge of natural things." 
 
 At p. 89 he thus observes — " How shall we now do ? 
 the gross dull-witted lads will not apprehend it; the middle 
 sort of wits will take no notice of what I write ; and the 
 supernatural wits will descant too much upon it." — Again 
 he remarks at p. 131 — " My persecutors and indiscreet 
 physicians will now tell me thou talkest much of geese, 
 and knowest not a duck — who knows whether all that thou 
 writest be true ? — He that is of such a resolution, may 
 remain with the ducks ; for he is not worthy of a roasted 
 goose, nor to learn what is concealed in nature." 
 
 That our worthy Monk gave too just cause to be laughed 
 at, by all the tribe of wils and philosophers, will suffi- 
 ciently appear from the following specimen — from the third 
 chapter *' On the Spirit of Mercury." " And that I may 
 further declare what is the essence, matter, and form of the 
 Spirit of Mercury, I say that its essence is blessed ; its matter 
 spiritual ; and its form earthly ; which yet tmist be under- 
 stood by an incomprehensible way ! These are indeed harsh 
 expressions: many will think thy proposals are all vain, 
 strange effusions, raising wonderful imaginations: and true 
 it is, they are strange — and require strange people to under- 
 stand these sayings. It is not written for peasants, how 
 they should grease cart-wheels, &c. &c." But the 
 achme of this " vain superstition" will be found in the 
 
Witchcraft, &c] Notes. 4 4 1 
 
 seventh Chapter " Of the Spirit of Gold," which is equalled 
 only by the mysterious nonsense and wild raving of 
 Swendenborg and Southcot! 
 
 Akin to this work, and ranking among the " vain super- 
 stitions of More, are the treatises upon Witchcraft and 
 Magic. Of the latter we have a curious little book, writ- 
 ten under the feigned name of Eugenius Philalethes 
 — with the following title: " Magia Adamica : or The An- 
 tiquitie of Magic, and the Descent thereof from Adam 
 downwards proved. Whereunto is added a perfect and full 
 Discovcrie of the true Caelum Terrce, or the Magician's 
 Heavenly Chaos, and first matter of all things." London, 
 1650, 12mo. 
 
 Whatever may be the subject matter of this work, the style 
 and the learning of the author are admirable. The love of 
 metaphor has been seldom more strikingly displayed than 
 in the following passage : " I have not without some labour, 
 now traced this science [of magic] from the very fall of 
 man to the day of his redemption. A long, and solitary 
 pilgrimage ! the paths being unfrequented because of the 
 Briars, and scruples of antiquitie — and, in some places, 
 overgrown with the Poppie of oblivion. I will not deny but 
 in the Shades and Ivie of this Wildernesse, there are some 
 Birds of Night, Owles and Bats, of a different feather from 
 our Phanix — I mean, some Conjurers, whose dark indirect 
 affection to the name of Magic, made them invent tradi- 
 tions more prodigious than their practices. These I have 
 purposely avoyded, lest they should wormwood my stream, 
 and I seduce the reader through all these Groves and Soli- 
 tudes, to the waters of Mar ah." — p. 64, 5. 
 3 h 
 
442 Supplemental [Treatises on 
 
 The following is in a different strain — " For thy better 
 intelligence thou must know that Spirits, whiles they move 
 in Heaven, which is the Fire-World, contract no impuri- 
 ties at all ; according to that of Stellatus ; 
 Omne quod est supra Lunam, ceternumque bonumque, 
 Esse scias, nee triste aliquid Ccelestia tangit. 
 
 " All (sayth hee) that is above the moon, is eternall and 
 good, and there is no corruption of heavenly things. On 
 the contrary, when Spirits descend to the Elementall Ma- 
 trix, and reside in her kingdom, they are blurr'd with the ori- 
 ginal leprosie of the matter; for here the curse raves and 
 rules ; but in heaven it is not predominant. To put an end to 
 this point, let us hear the admirable Agrippa state it. This 
 is hee, between whose lipps the truth did breathe, and knew 
 no other oracle." P. 125 — 6. 
 
 It would be absurd to attempt to give, within the com- 
 pass of a note, an outline of the principal works which ap- 
 pear to have so deeply interested our ancestors on the sub- 
 ject of Witchcraft. 
 
 To say nothing uf the renowned Cornelius Agrippa, 
 Scotts " Discuverie of Witchcraft," printed by Broome, 
 [with the types of Jugge, as I suspect,] in 1584, 4to. will 
 not fail to interest the curious reader, since it has been so 
 frequently quoted in illustration of Shakspeare by Messrs. 
 Steevens, Malone,and Douce. It was reprinted in 1651, 4to. 
 and again in 1665, fol. but the first is the most beautiful as 
 well as rare edition. In the 17th century the subject was 
 warmly discussed by Glanvill, K.James I. Meric Casaubon, 
 H. More, and Webster; and by Hutchinson and De Foe 
 in the 18th century. Many others, and especiaJly/oragn, 
 
Wit her aft) &c] Notes. 443 
 
 writers might be noticed ; but the reader is referred to 
 Morhofs Polyhist. Literar. vol. ii. lib. iii. [edit. 174-7.] 
 and the valuable catalogues of Farmer, Steevens, and Reed, 
 — as well as to the Bibl. Universalis Select a of Paterson, 
 1786, 8vo: a work, which I would strongly recommend to 
 every one who is desirous of a guide in the formation of a 
 judicious and not too extensive library. It does great cre- 
 dit to the memory of poor Paterson, whose like we shall 
 rarely see again ! 
 
 Of subordinate treatises upon Witchcra ft, the list is end- 
 less ; although I would by no means be supposed to include 
 in this list the " Physica curiosa, sive Mirabilia Natural et 
 Artis" of Schotus, comprehending upwards of 1400 closely 
 printed quarto pages. (Edit. 1667.) Boulton's Medicina 
 Magica tumen Physica, 1665, 12mo. has a great deal of cu- 
 rious reading in it : the Dedication* is a fair specimen of 
 
 * To the Ryht Honourable the Marquess of Dorchester. 
 My Lord, 
 
 The candor of your affections to these Msculapian mys- 
 teries, by divers of my acquaintance frequently related unto 
 me, together with the promptitude of your genius to those 
 sublime and inestimable treasures occulted in spagirical 
 operations, hermetically performed, have pressed on my 
 presumption to this Dedicatory Epi6tle, without your Ho- 
 nor's consent or licence first obtained. Horace had his 
 Maecenas and Virgil his Augustus ; and it is the accustomed 
 manner of our modern writers, alwaies to palliate themselves 
 under the protection of some worthy Patron. I question not 
 
444 Supplemental [Treatises on 
 
 that inflated yet imposing style in which most of these trea- 
 tises were written. The " Comte de Gabalis, ou En- 
 tretiens sur les Sciences Secrettes" furnished Pope with the 
 machinery for his Rape of the Lock ; and the 6th page* of 
 
 but that harmonious temper of your well disposed nature, 
 will accept in good part the rash attempt of your well 
 meaning, and yet unknown servant. I confess it is unwor- 
 thiness to stamp the impression of your Honour's title upon 
 such an abortive : and could I imagine the child in the fu- 
 ture would become the least disparagement to the dignity 
 of the Godfather, I would even now strangle it in the crad- 
 dle. Vouchsafe then (most gracious Lord) one smile from 
 your serene countenance upon this tender infant, cast out 
 into the wilde worlde, ready to be devoured with the du- 
 plicated teeth of Zoilian sharks. The shadow of your Ho- 
 nour's wings is the only solace it can expect, to whose tuition 
 1 only commit it for protection. Humbly imploring your 
 Lordship's favourable construction of this my incivility, I 
 take leave, and rest, 
 
 Your Honour's, &c. 
 
 * M Si je n'ay pas assez de grandeur d'ame, pour essayer 
 de devenir le maitre de la nature, de renverser les elemens, 
 d'entretenir les intelligences supremes, de commander aux 
 Demons, d'engendrer des Geans, de creer de nouveaux 
 mondes, de parler a. Dieu dans son tr6ne redoutable ; et 
 d'obliger le Cherubin, qui defend l'entree du Paradis ter- 
 restre, de me permettre d'aller faire quelques tours dans ses 
 allees ; c'est moy tout au plus qu'il faut blamer ou plaindre; 
 il ne faut pas pour cela insulter a la memoire de cet Homme 
 
Wither aft, &c] Notes. 445 
 
 this work is another striking proof of the daring sentiments 
 and elevated language which frequently characterised these 
 compositions. On consulting Barbier's Diet, des Oeuvrages 
 Anonymes et Pseudonymes [Paris 8vo. 1806, torn. i. No. 
 821.] I find that this book was written by the Abbe de 
 Montfaucon De Villars, and was first printed at Paris 
 in 1670, 12mo. 
 
 With what apparent interest the celebrated author of the 
 *' Lay of the last Minstrel" and " Marmion," has pursued 
 the subject of which we are treating, see his " Minstrelsy of 
 the Scottish Border," vol. i. p. xc to cv : vol. ii. p. 109 
 to 176. edit. 1806. At the end of his " Life of Dryden" 
 we have the following ingenious and just sentiments upon 
 the tendency of these studies. 
 
 " Those superstitious sciences and pursuits, which would, 
 by mystic rites, doctrines, and inferences, connect us with 
 the invisible world of spirits, or guide our daring researches 
 to a knowledge of future events, are indeed usually found to 
 cow, crush, and utterly stupify, understandings of a lower 
 
 rare [Le Comte De Gabalis], et dire qu'il est mort pour 
 m'avoir appris routes ces choses. Est-il impossible que, 
 comme les ames sont journalieres, il ait succombe dans 
 quelque combat avec quelque Lutin indocile ? Peut-etre 
 qu'en parlant a Dieu dans le Trone enflanime, il n'aura 
 pu se tenir de le regarder en face ; or il est ecrit qu'on ne 
 peut le regarder sans mourir. Peut-etre n'est il mort qu'en 
 apparence, suivant la couturne des Philosophes, qui font 
 semblant de mourir en un lieu, et se transplantent en un 
 autre." Edit. Cologne. 12mo. No date. 
 
446 Supplemental [Treatises 
 
 on 
 
 rank ; but if the mind of a man of acute powers and of warm 
 fancy, becomes slightly imbued with the visionary feelings 
 excited by such studies, their obscure and undefined influ- 
 ence is ever found to aid the sublimity of his ideas, and to 
 give that sombre and serious effect, which he can never 
 produce, who does not himself feel the awe which it is his 
 object to excite. The influence of such a mystic creed is 
 often felt where the cause is concealed ; for the habits thus 
 acquired are not confined to their own sphere of belief, but 
 gradually extend themselves over every adjacent province : 
 and perhaps we may not go too far in believing, that he 
 who has felt their impression, though only in one branch of 
 faith, becomes fitted to describe, with an air of reality and 
 interest, not only kindred subjects, but superstitions alto- 
 gether opposite to his own." P. 506 — 7. 
 
 Very different from these sentiments were those of Father 
 C. Clement, a Jesuit ; who, in his curious treatise, called 
 " Muscat sive Bibliothecx extructio, instructio, cura, usus, 
 SfC. Lugdyni 1635. 4to." at p. 38.9, &c. wished all books 
 relating to Magic and Astrology to be excluded. See Peig- 
 not's Diction. &c. des principaux Livres condamnes au feu, 
 supprimes, ou censures,* torn i. xxx. Paris, 180o\ 8vo. 
 
 Mr. G. S. Rose, in his splendid and interesting publica- 
 tion of " Partenoplex de Blois," has favoured us with some 
 
 * This is a very ingenious and amusing work of Peignot 
 — little known in our country. The author is, however, 
 occasionally subject to the same censure which he passes 
 on G. Puy-Herbaut — " il est trop prolixe ; la precision lui 
 manque." P. xxix. 
 
Witchcraft, &c] Notes. 447 
 
 curious observations on this subject in the notes to the Se- 
 cond Canto ; but I question if the reader's attention can be 
 directed to a more extraordinary performance relating to 
 Witchcraft, than to a little sixpenny pamphlet, recently 
 published, under the following title — (which may here- 
 after be considered a curiosity, as giving evidence of the 
 serious belief in the Black Art, at the opening of the 19th 
 century.) " The Iniquity of Witchcraft censured and ex- 
 posed: being the Substance of Two Sermons delivered at 
 Warley, near Halifax, Yorkshire, By T. Hawkins, 8vo. 
 1808." Bagster, London. The ensuing specimen may be 
 considered sufficiently curious and amusing. (I have no 
 doubt that the author has stated these facts accurately 
 from the documents given him.) 
 
 " The following is transcribed from the copy presented 
 
 by Mr. K g. " In the name of Jesus Christ, I call 
 
 upon thee through power will command such creatures, 
 Drimoth, Bellmoth, Lymock, 1 conjure you up to 
 
 fetch me back the watch of J C r, that was stolen 
 
 on the ninth day of August, 1807, in the house of man, to 
 bring the matter to true light, and to confess the said watch 
 and to the party the owner, to have his watch again in so 
 short time as may be pleasing and acceptable to the 
 Almighty. God will have the whole matter made known 
 in this order without any further trouble unto the parties. 
 I. G. H. name of the angels Satan and Agemon, that you 
 attend to me in the hour acceptable to the Almighty God, 
 and send unto me a spirit called Sagrigg, to torment the thief 
 both day and night, that he do fulfil my command, and de- 
 sire to fetch back the watch in nomen de patri an filii." 
 
448 Supplemental [Alchemy, 
 
 (Here follows some more unintelligible Latin.) " I by 
 these creatures shall make them to yield through God's 
 help, to their sorrow, by the authority of the Omnipotent, 
 the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, and by the holy 
 virgin Mary mother of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the holy 
 angels and archangels, and of St. Michael and St. John the 
 Baptist, and in hehalf of St. Stephen and all the martyrs, 
 St. Sylvester and all the confessors, the holy virgins, and 
 all the saints in heaven and earth. Unto whom there is 
 given power to bind all those spirits, to bring the thief to 
 judgment, that have stolen the watch. And here, we do 
 excommunicate, damn, curse, and bind with the knots and 
 bonds of excommunication all the thieves, male or female, 
 
 that have committed this theft or mischief to J C , 
 
 of Causeyfoot, or have accepted any part thereof to their 
 own use, Let them have part with Judas who betrayed 
 
 Christ, Amen. Let their children be made orphans. 
 
 Cursed be the thief, be they in the field, in the grove, in the 
 woods, in their houses, barns, chambers, and beds, that 
 have stolen the watch. And cursed be they in the church, 
 
 the church yard, in eating, in walking, in sleeping, in 
 
 drinking, in sitting, kneeling, standing, lying, in all their 
 works, in their body and soul, and in their five wits. And 
 cursed be the heart, back, liver, bowels, and spleen. And 
 cursed be their head, — and their arms, — and the bands 
 which took the watch. And cursed be their flesh, and cursed 
 be their bones, and the marrow that is within their bones. 
 
 And cursed be they by the milk of the virgin Mary. 
 
 I conjure thee, Lucifer, with all thy soldiers, by the Father 
 Son, and Holy Ghost, that the thief rest not day nor 
 
Etymological. ] Notes. 449 
 
 nor night, till thou restore the watch again to J 
 
 C , acceptable to Almighty God Bring them to 
 
 destruction, And let the torments of hell be strong upon 
 
 them for ever. Amen." 
 
 " There is a man who has lately set up in this diabolical 
 
 profession at L n, and has in some instances, thirty 
 
 people at a time waiting on him!!! A certain 
 
 child being ill (in VV. T.) it was suggested by a female 
 friend, that perhaps it had * 4 hurt done it." A phrase used 
 to signify bewitchtd. The above f:iend obtained a wizard's 
 charm : this was to be worn by the afflicted child for its 
 relief and cure. It cost two shillings. But the mother 
 having no faith in charms, instead of putting it on her child, 
 she very wisely put it in the fire." 
 
 " I knew a woman whose husband being very ill, she con- 
 ceived that he was bewitched. And she expended about 
 eleven shillings on a wizard for his efficacious charms, but, 
 alas! her husband died. The death of her husband did 
 not convince her of the ineflicacy of charms. She pur- 
 chased no less than three for her own benefit. One she wore 
 in her cap, — a second was sewed in her stays, — and a third 
 
 was nailed against the door of her house! For one of 
 
 these charms, I understood, she paid the sum of 2s. 4d." 
 Preface p. iv. v. vi. 
 
 Etymological. 
 
 Margrave. — p. 23. note. 
 
 Perhaps I may have been too precipitate in concluding 
 that this word was first adopted in our language by Robinson 
 3 M 
 
450 Supplemental {Etymological. 
 
 in his translation of 1551. In the German, I am told, 
 
 " Markgraaf" signifies, Marquis. 
 
 Rife. — p. 49, line 9. This word also means "common 
 
 — prevalent — abounding." 
 Dorrers.— p. 51. note. 
 
 In German, Dorren and Durren signify to wither; 
 and Luther, in his Translation of the New Testament 
 (John, ch. v. 3) uses the word durre, for withered per- 
 sons. But whatever may be its derivation, there is no 
 doubt of Robinson's using Dorrers in the sense of Drones, 
 as the original Latin is fact. Indeed, I believe Dorrer and 
 Drone were formerly synonymous terms. See Minsheu 
 in voc. Dorrer. 
 Quean. — p. 65. note. 
 
 To the authorities cited in the no*e here referred to, I 
 subjoin the two following :— the first at full length, as the 
 work is not noticed by Dr. Jamieson in the list of authors 
 prefixed to his Scottish Dictionary. 
 
 "Quean;" Komi* cauponari, scortari ; Koiihou, lupanar, 
 prostibufum, mulier corpore quaestum fnciens : Jun." — vela 
 Konos, Kotnj, communis; a common drab; unless we may 
 suppose quean is but a transposition of quena ; and, if so, it 
 may be derived from Tv»n, mulier; a common woman. 
 " Wee often heare, (says Verstegan p. 336',) this reproachful 
 name given to women ; and what it is I suppose few do 
 know ; but not seeing any way the appellation properly of 
 a woman, it must then bee some other contemptible thing, 
 (polite gentleman !) and so do I fynd it to bee, to wit, a 
 barren old cow,* and no other thing; and yet is it grown to 
 
 * Queen or kween in Dutch signifies, as I am told, a 
 
Etymological.] Notes. 4.51 
 
 bee in our language understood, and ment for a dishonest 
 woman of her body." 
 
 Leman's English Etymological Dictionary, 1783. 4to. 
 " Queyn, or Quean," says Di. Jamieson, ** is never a re- 
 spectful designation ; but it is often used in familar lan- 
 guage without any intentional disrespect : as, a sturdy queyne, 
 a thriving queyne. It is generally accompanied by some 
 epithet, determining its application ; as, when it bears a 
 bad sense, a loun queyne, a worthless queyne ; and as de- 
 noting a loose woman, a hure queyne. When applied to a 
 girl, the diminutive queynie is frequently used. It occurs 
 in almost all the Gothic dialects.'' 
 Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language, Edinb. 
 1808. 4to. vol. ii. 
 Beareth all the Stroke — p. 130. 
 
 Add. May not this mean to preponderate— -in allusion 
 to the striking of the scale in weighing ? 
 Knowledge. — p. lfjO 
 
 Sir T. More frequently used this as a verb [vide p. ex.] 
 and in Hen, Vlilth's. Primer, it is " we knowledge thee to 
 be the Lord." 
 
 " Hapt." — p. 188. To hap signifies to cover one's 
 self with any thing: it is still used in some of our 
 northern counties, and was no doubt intended to con- 
 vey this meanii g in the passage of the Utopia here re- 
 ferred to. The explanation in the note is therefore 
 inapplicable. 
 
 barren cow. It might, therefore, in former times have been 
 an opprobious name given to a barren woman. 
 
452 Supplemental, &c. [Etymological, 
 
 " Aiglets." — p. 225. " Aiguellettes" were tags worn also 
 on the ends of the shoulder knots of officers, gentlemen 
 in dress, and even common sergeants. 
 " Exploited." — p. 264. last line. 
 
 Exploiter une terre is a French agricultural term ; and, 
 most probably, Robinson adopted this word from thn French. 
 "Eschewed." — p. 288. 1. 5. Dr. Johnson dt rives this 
 word from escheoir, and the verb to shun, from the 
 Saxon ascunian. I will however just observe, that, proba- 
 bly, eschrw ought rather to be derived from ascunian, 
 and that the original of the verb to shun is to be sought 
 for in the German scheuen, to shun. 
 H Availeth." — p. 305. line 16. p. 347- Hue a. 
 
 From the French s'avaler — to let down — to lower- 
 to sink — to bow : more frequently spelt vati : 
 
 " how low a high-bred courtier 
 
 May vail to a country gentleman." — Massingeu. 
 " Now the time is come 
 f* That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest, 
 *' And let her head fall into England's lap. — Shaksp. 
 ** To vail the bonnet is a very common expression in old 
 writers." See Boucher's Supplement to Johnson's 
 Dictionary Lond. I8O7. 4to. Part the First. — Art. * To 
 
 AVALE; AVAIL." 
 
 " Run at Rovers."— (Ibid). 
 
 This is a technical phrase in archery, and means shoot- 
 ing at random— it is perhaps equivalent to the French — 
 " courir a bride abattue'' — to run without restraint. 
 
LIST OF AUTHORS 
 
 CONSULTED AND REFERRED TO. 
 
 The Editions of the respective Authors are specified 
 in the pages referred to. 
 
 Anderson's History of Commerce, p. 168. 
 
 Ascham's Schoolmaster, Bennet's edition, p. 65, 156. 
 
 Toxophilus, 271, 331. 
 
 Barnabe Googe on Husbandry, p. 157. 
 
 Barwick's Life of Bishop Morton, p. 46. 
 
 Basan Diet, des Graveurs, p. exxiii. 
 
 Baudrandi Geographia, p. 29. 
 
 Beloe's Anecdotes of Literature and Scarce Books, p. 42 1 . 
 
 Bigarrures (Les) et Touches du Seigneur desAccords, p. 422. 
 
 Biograpkia Britannica, first edition, p. xxxvi. 
 
 Blackstone's Commentaries, p. 80, 115, 231, 291, 293. 
 
 Boiastuau's Politike Glass, p. 99. 
 
 Theatre, or Rule of the World, p. 101, 174, 
 
 200, 2><6. 
 Boulton's Medicina Magica, &c. p. 443. 
 Braithwait's Nursery for Gentry, p. 411-12 
 
454 List of Authors. 
 
 Bright's Treatise of Melancholy, p. 239. 
 
 Buchanan's Journey from Madras, p. 110. 
 
 Bullein's Bulwark of Defence, ike. p. 239, 259, 263, 351. 
 
 Burnett's Specimens of English Prose IVriters, lxxv. 
 
 lxxxvi. 343. 
 Burner's (Dr.) History of Music, p. 374. 
 Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, p. Ixii. 241, 284, 286, 
 
 375. 
 
 Catalogue d'Estampes de Winckler, p. cxvii. 
 
 of Books, A.D. 1658, p. 404, 428. 
 
 Censura Literaria, p. lxiii. ciii. 7\. 
 
 Chalmers' (G.) Sir David Lyndsay, p. 65, 229. 
 
 Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, by Tyrwhitt, p. 121, 225. 
 
 Christ's Diet, des Monogrammes, p. cxlvi. 
 
 Cockeram's Dictionary of hard Words, edit. 1622, p. 123. 
 
 Comte de Gabalis, p. 444. 
 
 Cornwallys's Essayes, p. 14. 
 
 Corryat's Crudities, p. xl. 
 
 Coverdale's Christian State of Matrimony, p. 405, 430. 
 
 Cowper's Poems, p. 213. 
 
 Davies' Dramatic Miscellanies- p. 294. 
 
 De Hure, Bibliographic Instructive, p. cxx. 
 
 De Vera Obedientia, Pref. p. v. 
 
 Dialogue of Comfort (by Sir T. More) p. civ. 279, 
 
 347. 
 Douce's Illustrations of S/takspeare, and of ancient Manners, 
 
 p. clxiv. 375, 408. 
 
List of Authors. 455 
 
 Ellis's (Mr. G.) Specimens of the Early English Poets, 
 p.lxxii. 69, 151, 167, 168, 209, 283, 295. 
 
 Edit. 1790, lxxv. 
 
 Elyot (Sir Thomas) Castel of Health, p. 156, 204, 
 206. 
 
 Boke of the Governour, p. 405, 422. 
 
 Erasmi Pacts Querela, p. 308. 
 
 Fitz Stephen's Description of London, p. 413. 
 Foppens's Bibliotheca Befgica, p. 71- 
 Fox's Book of Martyrs, p. xciii. xcvii. civ. 22. 
 Friend's (Dr.) History of Physic, p. xxvii. 
 
 Gascoigne's Delicate diet for daintie-mouthde drunkardes : 
 
 quoted from Waldron's Literary Museum, p. 214. 
 Godwin De Pmsulibus Angliw, p. cxlii. 23. 
 Granger's Biographical History ff England, p. 22» 
 Grose's Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, p. 123. 
 ■ — Military Antiquities, p. 434. 
 Guicciardini's Storia d? Italia, p. 103, 105. 
 
 Hall's (T.) Loathsomeness of long Hair, &c. p. 432. 
 
 Hall's (Bp.) Virgidemiarum, p. 233. 
 
 Harrison's Description of England, prefixed to Hollinshed's 
 
 Chronicles, p. 1 67, 209, 262, 332. 
 Hayley's Li/eofCowper,p. lxi. 
 Haym's Biblioteca Italiana, p. civ. 
 Hawkins's (T.) Iniquity of Witchcraft censured, p. 447. 
 Hawkins's (Sir John) History of Music, p. 373. 
 Hearne's Antiquarian Discourses, p. 152. 
 Heinekin, Dictionnaire des Graveurs, p. cxvii, 
 
456 List of Authors. 
 
 Henry's History of Great Britain, p. lxxxvii. 53, 54, 209, 
 
 232, 330. 
 Herodotus, p. 434. 
 Historia &c. Nostri Seculi Martyrum, 4to. 1550, p. 
 
 xxxix. 
 Homeri Ilias, p. 1 76. 
 Huber, Manuel des Amateurs de VArt, p. cxvi. 
 
 Notice des Gravcurs, p. cxxiii. 
 
 Hurdis's Tragedy of Sir Thomas More, 8vo. 1793, p. liv. 
 
 Jamieson's Etymological Dictionary, 451. 
 
 Knight (Dr.) Life ofColet, p. lxxxviii. 126. 
 Life of Erasmus, p. cxxxi. 
 
 Landseer's Lectures on Engraving, p. cxxxiii. 
 
 Leyden's (Dr.) Edition of the " Complaynt of Scotland" 
 
 Pref. p. vii. 
 Life and Death of Sir T. M. &c. 4to. 1627, p. xli. 
 
 lxxiii. 205, 219, &c. &c. &c. 
 Lingua, or the Tongue Combat, edit. 1607, p. 296. 
 
 Macdiarmid's Lives of British Statesmen, p. lii. cxxxviii. 
 
 141,268. 
 Magia Adamica, p. 441. 
 
 Memoirs of the Life of Sir T. M. &c. 8vo. 1758, p. li. 
 The same, 4to. 1808, p. liii. 
 Mkro-cosmographie, edit. 1664, p. 66, 250. 
 Mirror of Virtue, &c. 8vo. 1626, p. xli. 
 Montesquieu's Spirit of Laws, p. 50, 80. 
 Overbury's (Sir Thomas) Wife and Characters, p, 66, 
 
 198. 
 
List or Authors. 457 
 
 Panzer's Annates Typographic^ p. cxli. vi. &c. 
 Papillon's Traite de la Gravure en Bois, p. cxviii. 
 Paradoxical Assertions and Philosophical Problems, &c. 
 
 p. lxii. 438. 
 Paradin Les Devices Heroiques, &c. p. 423. 
 Paynell's Regimen Sanitatis Salerni, p. 4l6, 427. 
 Peacham's Complete Gentleman, p. 205, 214, 215. 
 Peignot's Dictionnaire de Bibliologie, p. 272. 
 
 — Dict.des Livres condamnis aufeu, &c. 446. 
 
 Percy's (Bp.) Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, p. 
 
 lxv. 65. 
 Philosopher's Banquet, p. 417, 427. 
 Platonical Song of the Soul, p. 424. 
 Plutarchi Vitas, edit. Bryan, p. xxxvii. 
 Primaudaye's French Acadamie, p. 287, 437. 
 
 Recreations for Ingenious Head Pieces, &c. p. 410, 417. 
 Ritson's Bibliographia Poetica, p. lxiii. lxx. 
 
 Metrical Romances, p. 169. 
 
 - Collection of English Songs, p. 251, 374. 
 
 Robin Hood, p. 333. 
 
 Rooperi Gulielmi Vita D. Thomae Mori, p. i. xlvii. 
 Rose (G. S.) Partenoplex de Blois, p. 446. 
 
 Scott's (Walter) Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border,?. 331, 
 
 445. 
 
 . Life of Dry den, 445. 
 
 Shakspeare, edit. 1803, p. 83, 91, 105, 109, 
 
 272. 
 Smyth (Sir Thomas) De Republ. Anglor. p. 405. 
 Spectat or, p. 355. 
 
 3N 
 
458 List of Authors. 
 
 Stapleton's (Dr. T.) « Tres Thomce, &c. 8vo. p. xx. 
 
 xxxix. 
 Stow's Survey of London, p. 413, 423. 
 Strutt's Manners and Customs of the English, p. 251, 295, 
 
 333, 352. 
 Supplication of Beggars (by Fish) p. xciii. 
 Supplication of Soules (by Sir T. More) p. 363. 
 
 Tabel'ce Selectee ac Explicated a C.C. Patina, fol. 1691, 
 
 p. exxvii. 
 Tartaglia's Treatise on ancient Artillery, p. 435. 
 The Life of Sir Thomas More, &c. 8vo. 1726, p. xlviii. 
 The Life and Death of Sir T. M. 1729, p. 31, 65, xlix. 
 The English Works of Ditto, J 557, p. lvii. 
 Thomae Mori Vita et Exitus, 8vo. 1652, 1662, p. xliv. 23, 
 
 48, 117. 324. 
 Todd's Edition of Spenser, p. 109, 225. 
 Treatise on the Passion (^by Sir T. More) p. cv. cvi. 
 
 350. 
 Tyrwhitt's Chaucer, p. 121. 
 
 Valentinus (Basilius) Of Supernatural Things, p. 439. 
 Vincent's (Dr.) Commerce of the Ancients, p. 29. 
 
 Walpole's Catalogue of Engravers, 8vo. 1786, p. exxv. 
 
 Warton's History of English Poetry, p. 251. 
 
 Watson's Edition of Horace, p. 54. 
 
 Way's Fabliaux, p. 325. 
 
 Whitaker's (Dr.) Blood of the Grape, p. 425, 437. 
 
 Whitlock's (Dr.) Zootomia, p. 414. 
 
 Xenophon's Cyropudia, p. 155, 158. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Achoreins, account of p. 106" 
 
 Adulterers., punishment of 138 
 
 Albert Durer, character of his engravings - cxvi 
 
 Ale-houses, animadversions upon 13, 65, 212 
 
 Ale and Beer drinking - *■ 415, &c. 
 
 Aiglets - - - 81 
 
 Amaurote, capital of Utopia, description of 152 
 
 Archery, ancient, of the English - 330, &c. 
 
 Arms, ancient, of the English - 329> 434 
 
 Astrology, censured - - - 233 
 
 Beauty, praise of - 26"0, 285, 413, 414 
 
 Beds, description of in Henry the Eighth's time 262 
 
 Broche, definition of 225 
 
 Building, improvements in, in England - 10*7 
 
 Cayley, Mr. his life of Sir Thomas More, and edition 
 
 of the Utopia - - liii- clxxvii 
 
 Chaffare, definition of - - 121 
 
 Chess, Caxton's edition of - 180 
 
 Church Music, its effects - - 373 
 
 opposition of the Reformers to it ib. 
 
 Christian Religion, sum of - - 119 
 
 Colet, Dean, his opinion of More'* wit 2o"5 
 
460 Index. 
 
 Cornish insurrection - - p. 44 
 
 Courtiers, satirised - - 99> 411 
 
 Dress, luxury in 64 
 
 of the Utopians - - 31,185 
 
 Dice, forbidden - - 179*405 
 
 Dinners, in England, how formerly conducted 207 
 
 Drinks, of the English in 1 576 - 214 
 
 Duns Scotus, his works banished from Oxford 232 
 
 Death, fit preparations for it - - 351 
 
 account of Sir Thomas More's 353, et seq. 
 
 Egg s t manner of hatching - - 11,155 
 
 English, manners and customs in the beginning of the 
 
 l6th century 69, &c. 
 
 Epicurean Philosophy, what - 235 
 
 Equality, impossible in a republic - 132 
 
 Exercises of the English in Henry Eighth's time 156,412 
 
 Face-painting - - 295, 432 
 
 Fame, a virtuous one - - 352, 438 
 
 Felony, how punished in Uoptia - 82 
 
 Female accomplishments - - 413 
 Fool (the ancient) some account of 90, 234, 408 
 
 French Cook, character of one - - 198 
 
 Friars, sharp satire on 94 
 
 Frith, John, some account of cii 
 
 Gambling - - 68, 179, 405 
 
 Glazed Windows, when introduced into England 168 
 
 Gold and Silver, their worth appreciated 219 
 
 ■ . . i marks of infamy - 221 
 
 Gothic Architecture, its beauties - 367 
 
Index. 
 
 46l 
 
 Hawking and Hunting, antiquity and anecdotes of, 
 
 the tieatises upon, &c. - p. 249,422 
 
 Health, the most sovereign pleasure - 256 
 
 Henry the Eighth's funeral - 373 
 
 — — composer of church music ib. 
 
 Henry the seventh, treasures found in his coffers 115 
 
 Host, description of - 14, 6l, 66, 402 
 
 Idleness, how punished - - 84 
 
 Imprisonment, more terrible to offenders than death 291 
 
 Ladies dressing table (vide Face Painting) 
 
 Lascaris's Grammar, the first Greek book published 
 
 Laws, manner of making them in Utopia 
 
 Life according to nature 
 
 Macdiarmid, late Mr. his character 
 
 Marriage of Priests, More's opinion thereon 
 
 Meath, a liquor 
 
 Melancholy, Bullein's description of 
 
 Bright's ditto 
 
 295 
 270 
 172 
 421 
 
 Melancholy men, why witty 
 Mithra, worshipped by the Persians 
 More, Sir Thomas, account of his family 
 » English Works of - 
 
 Latin Works of - - 
 
 Portraits of - 
 
 -'■ his diet 
 
 his contempt of riches 
 
 his apparel 
 
 ■ — contempt of pomp and ceremony 
 
 — — > — penance and mortification 
 
 — — — d ispatch of business when Chancellor 
 
 CXXXV1U 
 
 363 
 
 158 
 
 239 
 
 240 
 
 lxi 
 
 338 
 
 i. to xxxvii 
 
 lvii 
 
 cxii 
 
 cxiii. &c. 
 
 207 
 
 219 
 223 
 246 
 384 
 300 
 
46*2 Index. 
 
 More, Sir Thomas, his religious character p. 342, 344 
 1 — his behaviour when sentence of death was 
 
 passed on him - 353 
 
 his letters to his daughter xxii. xxiii. xxiv 
 
 behaviour in the Tower - xxviii 
 
 More, Gertrude, account of a book written by her 401 
 
 More, Sir John, account of - vi. 116 
 
 More, Margaret, her accomplishments xx, 267 
 
 Morris Dancer - - 409-10 
 Morton, John, Cardinal and Archbishop, account of 44 
 
 Music, More's fondness for it - 205 
 
 its power on the mind - 375 
 
 Muskets, when first discharged from the shoulder 330 
 
 Oxen, used for draught and ploughing - 157 
 rules for ch using them - ibid. 
 
 Priests, their behaviour in battle - 365 
 
 Priests, marriage of - - 102 
 Painting, see Face 
 
 Paper, when invented - . 273 
 
 Pasture Lands, mischievous encrease of - 58 
 
 Penal Laws, impolitic when too severe - 49 
 Picus, Earl of Mirandula, Life of, by Sir Thomas 
 
 More, with specimens of the same lxxiii. &c. 
 
 Plato's opinion of weal-publicks - 101 
 
 Pleasures of the mind - - 258, 427 
 
 Pole, Richard De La, Duke of Suffolk - 105 
 
 Printing, when invented - - 272 
 
 Reistres, what - - 332 
 
 Robberies, frequent in Henry the Eighth's reign 53 
 
Index. 463 
 
 Rooper, William, his epitaph - p. xxxv 
 
 Ruoper, William, his life of More commended li 
 
 Scots, early use of fire-arms among them before the 
 
 English - - - 331 
 
 Servants, bad effects of retaining such numbers 52 
 
 dresses in Henry the Eighth's time 54 
 
 Siphvgrants, what - - 170 
 
 Shore, Jane, Moie's description of her person Ixxxiii 
 
 Spices and Perfumes, esteemed by the English 169 
 
 Sweating Sickness, some account of - xxvi 
 
 Sweetmeats - - - 206 
 
 Tables, luxury of - - 59 
 
 Taprobane - 29 
 
 Testament, the New, some account of the first English 
 
 impression of - - xcvii 
 
 Theft, opinion on the punishment of it - 74 
 
 injustice of punishing it in the same manner as 
 
 murder ... jj 
 
 Todd, Mr. his copy of a singular work vi 
 
 TraniboreS) what - 26 
 
 Tunstall, Cuthbert, account of - 20,21 
 
 Utopia, various editions of the Romance so called 
 
 cxl. to clxxx 
 
 opi nions relative to the history - 18 
 
 . punishment of criminals - 81 
 
 description of - 147 
 
 Utopians, magistrates - - 170 
 
 1 domestic life and character 190 
 
 division of their cities - 193 
 
464 Index. 
 
 Utopian markets, cleanliness of - p. 194 
 
 — hospitals - > JQ5 
 
 manner of sitting at table - iqq 
 
 mothers nurse their own children - 201 
 
 manner of travelling - . 210 
 
 education . _ 230 
 
 philosophy - _ 234 
 
 — definition of virtue - _ 237 
 
 opinions respecting covenants - 242 
 
 character of 265 
 
 aptness for learning - _ 266 
 
 treatment of servants - . 277 
 
 — treatment of the sick - 278 
 
 suicides - - 270 
 
 marriages - . 2 82-3 
 
 spirit of their laws - . 208 
 
 ■ mode of warfare - - 308 
 
 religion - - - 336 
 
 > — their priests - - ggQ 
 
 Hythloday's reflections on their common- 
 wealth - - 388 
 Vertue, G. character of his engravings cxxxii 
 
 Wine, use and abuse of 250, 424 
 
 Wives, chastisement of 200 
 
 Witchcraft, &c. - 430 
 
 Printed by W. Bulmerand Co. 
 Cleveland Row, St. Jamei's. 
 
CORRECTIONS. 
 Page 
 
 xli. Line 14: after" Lo." add " Chancelour." 
 1. — — 2. but " this edition of it" should have been inserted. 
 
 lxKiii. 8. instead of " relating to his" read " which are written in." 
 
 lxxx. Dele the first line. 
 
 cxiv. 19. for " Hutton" read " Hottek." 
 
 cxxxvi. — — 4. dele " written." 
 
 cxliii. 5. for " being" read ** having been." 
 
 a/. Note [*] line 5th. for " noblemen" read " nobleman." 
 27. Note [t] America took its name from that of " Amerigo Ves- 
 puccio; and not Vespucius Americanus from that of the 
 continent of America. 
 49. Line 2. for " felonies" read " felons." 
 
 66. Last line but three, for " 150 years ago," read " nearly 200 years 
 ago:" the first edition of the Micro- cosmographie having 
 been published in 1628. 
 126. For " Mr. Knight" read " Dr. Knight." 
 139. Line 15. note, for " entre" read " entrer." 
 161. Note, last line but three, for " ocean ware" read " ocean wave." 
 167- The asterisk [*] for the note should have been attached to the 
 
 word " gorgeous" (line 3.) and not " now." 
 192. More's father (in the note) is said to be " Chief Justice," instead 
 
 of " one of the Puisne Judges." 
 196. First line of note should have been " The Utopians manage their 
 
 sick very judiciously." 
 229. Line l. for" tune" read " fortune." 
 
 244- 15. for " fain" read " feign." 
 
 258. 8. for " principle" read " principal." 
 
 267. Note line 18. for " Moriana," read" Biographical and Literary 
 
 Introduction." 
 271. Line 5. for " godliest" read " goodliest." 
 
 . «89. 2. for " cast of," read " cast off." 
 
 815. —— 4. for " prescribed" read " proscribed." 
 
 834. 9. after " they" read " give.' 
 
 836. Note — line 3. for " short" read " close." 
 
 ■ — 7. for" controvsrsie," read " controverse." 
 
 368. line l. dele ** published." 
 

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