cycles, and what not, will go. I doubt if we shall see any horses
upon this fine, smooth, clean road; I doubt if there will be many
horses on the high roads of Utopia, and, indeed, if they will use
draught horses at all upon that planet. Why should they? Where the
world gives turf or sand, or along special tracts, the horse will
perhaps be ridden for exercise and pleasure, but that will be all
the use for him; and as for the other beasts of burthen, on the
remoter mountain tracks the mule will no doubt still be a
picturesque survival, in the desert men will still find a use for
the camel, and the elephant may linger to play a part in the pageant
of the East. But the burthen of the minor traffic, if not the whole
of it, will certainly be mechanical. This is what we shall see even
while the road is still remote, swift and shapely motor-cars going
past, cyclists, and in these agreeable mountain regions there will
also be pedestrians upon their way. Cycle tracks will abound in
Utopia, sometimes following beside the great high roads, but oftener
taking their own more agreeable line amidst woods and crops and
pastures; and there will be a rich variety of footpaths and minor
ways. There will be many footpaths in Utopia. There will be pleasant
ways over the scented needles of the mountain pinewoods,
primrose-strewn tracks amidst the budding thickets of the lower
country, paths running beside rushing streams, paths across the wide
spaces of the corn land, and, above all, paths through the flowery
garden spaces amidst which the houses in the towns will stand. And
everywhere about the world, on road and path, by sea and land, the
happy holiday Utopians will go.

The population of Utopia will be a migratory population beyond any
earthly precedent, not simply a travelling population, but
migratory. The old Utopias were all localised, as localised as a