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coarse one? And yet these men, as if they had some real advantages beyond
others, and did not owe them wholly to their mistakes, look big, seem to fancy
themselves to be more valuable, and imagine that a respect is due to them for
the sake of a rich garment, to which they would not have pretended if they
had been more meanly clothed, and even resent it as an affront if that respect
is not paid them. It is also a great folly to be taken with outward marks of
respect, which signify nothing; for what true or real pleasure can one man
find in another’s standing bare or making legs to him? Will the bending
another man’s knees give ease to yours? and will the head’s being bare cure
the madness of yours? And yet it is wonderful to see how this false notion of
pleasure bewitches many who delight themselves with the fancy of their
nobility, and are pleased with this conceit—that they are descended from
ancestors who have been held for some successions rich, and who have had
great possessions; for this is all that makes nobility at present. Yet they do not
think themselves a whit the less noble, though their immediate parents have
left none of this wealth to them, or though they themselves have squandered it
away. The Utopians have no better opinion of those who are much taken with
gems and precious stones, and who account it a degree of happiness next to a
divine one if they can purchase one that is very extraordinary, especially if it
be of that sort of stones that is then in greatest request, for the same sort is not
at all times universally of the same value, nor will men buy it unless it be
dismounted and taken out of the gold. The jeweller is then made to give good
security, and required solemnly to swear that the stone is true, that, by such an
exact caution, a false one might not be bought instead of a true; though, if you
were to examine it, your eye could find no difference between the counterfeit
and that which is true; so that they are all one to you, as much as if you were
blind. Or can it be thought that they who heap up a useless mass of wealth,
not for any use that it is to bring them, but merely to please themselves with
the contemplation of it, enjoy any true pleasure in it? The delight they find is
only a false shadow of joy. Those are no better whose error is somewhat
different from the former, and who hide it out of their fear of losing it; for
what other name can fit the hiding it in the earth, or, rather, the restoring it to
it again, it being thus cut off from being useful either to its owner or to the
rest of mankind? And yet the owner, having hid it carefully, is glad, because
he thinks he is now sure of it. If it should be stole, the owner, though he might
live perhaps ten years after the theft, of which he knew nothing, would find
no difference between his having or losing it, for both ways it was equally
useless to him.
“Among those foolish pursuers of pleasure they reckon all that delight in
hunting, in fowling, or gaming, of whose madness they have only heard, for
they have no such things among them. But they have asked us, ‘What sort of
53
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Utopia
- Title
- Utopia
- Author
- Thomas Morus
- Date
- 1516
- Language
- English
- License
- PD
- Size
- 21.0 x 29.7 cm
- Pages
- 86
- Keywords
- Utopia, State, Religion, English
- Categories
- International
- Weiteres Belletristik