More's sarcasm on the gorgeous dressing of the European

ambassadors

of his time

So there came in three ambassadors with one hundred servants, all appareled in changeable colors; 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 upon their fingers, with brooches and aglets of gold upon their caps, which glistered 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 withal.

Therefore it would have done a man good at his heart to have seen how proudly they displayed their peacock's 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 pleasure to consider how much they were deceived, and how far they missed of their purpose, being contrariwise 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 that gorgeousness of apparel seemed shameful and reproachful. Insomuch that they most reverently saluted the vilest and most abject of them for lords; passing over the ambassadors themselves without any honor; 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: Look, mother, how great a lubber doth yet wear pearls and precious stones, as though he were a little child. 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 or 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 reproach than it was with them in honor 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 gorgeous array, whereof they were so proud. And specially when they had talked familiarly with the Utopians, and had learned all their fashions and opinions.

in war

They detest war as a very brutal thing. . . . As soon as they Machiadeclare war, they take care to have a great many schedules, vellian policy that are sealed with their common seal, affixed in the most conspicuous places of their enemies' country. This is carried on secretly, and done in many places all at once. In these they promise great rewards to such as shall kill the ruler, and lesser in proportion to such as shall kill any other persons, who are those in whom, next to the ruler himself, they cast the chief balance of the war. . . They think it an act of mercy and love to mankind to prevent the great slaughter of those that must otherwise be killed in the progress of the war, both on their own side and on that of their enemies, by the death of a few that are most guilty.

If any man aspires to an office he is sure never to gain it. ... They have but few laws, and such is their constitution that they need not many. . . .

They have no lawyers among them, for they consider them as a sort of people whose profession is to disguise matters and to wrest the laws.

This is one of their most ancient laws, that no man ought to be punished for his religion.

They do not wear themselves out with perpetual toil from A six-hour morning to night, as if they were beasts of burden, which, as it workday in Utopia is indeed a heavy slavery, so it is everywhere the common course of life amongst all mechanics, except the Utopians; but they, dividing the day and night into twenty-four hours, appoint six of these for work, three of which are before dinner and three after.

193. Extracts from a fio

titious Dialogue between Lupset and Pole

Thus have I described to you, as particularly as I could, the constitution of that commonwealth, which I do not only think the best in the world, but indeed the only commonwealth that truly deserves the name.

Is not the government both unjust and ungrateful that is so prodigal of its favors to those that are called gentlemen, or goldsmiths, or such others who are idle, or live by flattery, or by contriving the arts of vain pleasures, and on the other hand takes no care of those of a meaner sort, such as plowmen, colliers, and smiths, without whom it could not subsist? But after the public has reaped all the advantage of their service, and they come to be oppressed with age, sickness, and want, all their labors and the good they have done is forgotten: and all the recompense given them is that they are left to die in great misery. . . . Therefore, I must say that, as I hope for mercy, I can have no other notion of all the governments that I see or know than that they are a conspiracy of the rich. . . .

The following passage is taken from a work somewhat similar to Utopia. It pretends to be a dialogue between Cardinal Pole, who was then considered to be a reformer, and Thomas Lupset, a professor at Oxford, and was written in English by Thomas Starkey about 1538. The portion here given refers to a subject much discussed at the time, whether the Bible and church service should be in the language of the people or not.

Pole But now, thys set aparte, Master Lupset, let us go forth and serch out other yl custumys, yf we remember any, here in our cuntre. And herin me thynkyth hyt ys an yl custume in our church usyd, that dyvyne servyce ys sayed and song aftur such maner as hyt ys commynly; as fyrst, that hyt ys openly rehersyd in a straunge tonge, no thyng of the pepul understond; by the reson wherof, the pepul takyth not that truth that they myght and ought to receyve, yf hyt were rehersyd in our vulgare tong. Second, touchyng the syngyng therof, they use a fascyon more convenyent to mynstrellys then to devoute

mynystyrys of the dyvyne servyce; for playnly, as hyt ys usyd, thys ys truthe, specyally consyderyng the wordys be so straunge and so dyversely descentyd, hyt ys more to the utward pleasure of the yere and vayn recreatyon, then to the inward comfort of the hart and mynd with gud devotyon. How say you, Master Lupset, ys hyt not thys as I dow say?

Lupset: Sir, in thys mater somewhat I marvayle what you mean; for you seme to alow, by your communycatyon, the Lutheranys maner, whome I understond to have chaunged thys fascyon long usyd in the church. They have theyr servyce, such as hyt ys, al in theyr vulgare tong openly rehersyd. I wold not that we schold folow theyr steppys. They are yl masturys to be folowyd in gud pollycy. But, me thynk, by thys maner, you wold also have the Gospel and al the sprytual law put into our tong; and so by that mean you schold see as many errorys among us here in Englond as be now in Almayn among the Lutheranys, in schort space. Wherfor, Master Pole, I thynke hyt ys bettur to kepe our old fascyon both in our dyvyne servyce and in kepyng the law in a straunge tonge, then by such new maner to bryng in among us any dyversyte of sectys in relygyon.

Pole: Master Lupset, I se wel in thys you wyl not be so sone persuadyd, as in other thyngys before you were. You are, me semyth, aferd lest we schold folow the steppys of thes Lutheranys, wych are fallen into many errorys and gret confusyon by thys mean, as you thynke, and new alteratyon. But here, Master Lupset, fyrst you schal be sure of thys. I wyl not folow the steppys of Luther, whose judgment I estyme veray lytyl; and yet he and hys dyscypullys be not so wykkyd and folysch that in al thyngs they erre. Heretykys be not in al thynygs heretykys. Wherfor I will not so abhorre theyr heresye that for the hate therof I wyl fly from the truth. I alow thys maner of saying of servyce, not bycause they say and affyrme hyt to be gud and laudabul, but bycause the truth ys so, as yt apperyth to me, and the fruit therof so manyfest; wych you schal also confesse, I thynk, yf you wyl consydur indifferently the mater a lytyl with me. And fyrst thys is certaun and sure —that the dyvyne servyce was ordeynyd to be sayed in the

194. Caxton's prologue to his translation of Virgil's Eneid

church for the edyfying of the pepul, that they, heryng the wordys of the Gospel and the exampullys of holy sayntys, professorys of Chrystys name and doctryne, myght therby be sterryd and movyd to folow theyr steppys, and be put in remembrance therby of the lyvyng and doctryne of our master Chryst, hys apostyllys and dyscypullys, as the chefe thyng of al other to be pryntyd and gravyd in al gud and Chrystyan hartys. Wherfor, yf thys be true, as I thynke you can not deny, thys folowyth of necessyte that we must other have the dyvyne servyse to be sayd in our owne tong commynly, or els to provuyd some mean that al the pepul may understond the Latin convenyently; wych I thynke surely was the purpos of the Romaynys, when they did fyrst instytute al dyvyne servyse to be rehersyd in that tong, even lyke as hyt was of the Normannys at such tyme when they ordeynyd al our commyn laws in the French tong to be tought and disputyd. But now, Master Lupset, seeyng that thys ys not convenyent and skant possybul as the state stondyth, I thynke hyt ys bothe necessary and expedyent to have rehersyd thys dyvyne servyse in our owne vulgare tong; yee, and also touchyng the Gospel, to have hyt holly in our tong to be convertyd, I thynk of al most expedyent and necessary.

The difficulties Caxton met with from the still unsettled form of the English language are well shown in the following introduction from the Eneid, or Eneydos, as he spelled it, which he printed in 1490. His work, however, did much to set standards for the use of English, for between his arrival in England in 1476 and his death in 1491 he printed some eighty books, several of them in more than one edition.

After dyverse werkes made, translated, and achieved, havyng noo werke in hande, I, sittyng in my studye, where laye many dyverse paunflettis and bookys, happened that to my hande came a lytyl booke in frenshe, whiche late was translated out of latyn by some noble clerke of fraunce, whiche book is named