In this country, happily, it would be superfluous--a mere slaying of the slain--to expose the folly of these Utopias. Utopias indeed!--that would deprive men of personal liberty, of domestic affection, of everything that is most valued in life, to shut them up in a strange building which is to be palace, prison, and workhouse, all in one; which must have a good deal of the workhouse, if it has anything of the palace, and will probably have more of the prison in it than either. Briefly, the case may be stated thus:--The _cost_ of such a community would be liberty, marriage, enterprise, hope, and generosity--for, under such an institution, what could any man have to give or receive? The _gain_ would be task-work for all, board and lodging for all, and a shameless sensuality; the working-bell, the dinner-bell, and the curfew. It would be a sacrifice of all that is high, ennobling, and spiritual, to all that is material, animal, and vile. But if men think otherwise of the fraternal community--if they think that, because philanthropy presides, or seems to preside, over its formation, that therefore philanthropy will continue to animate all its daily functions--why do they not voluntarily unite and form this community? They are fond of quoting the example of the early Christians; these were really under the influence of a fraternal sentiment, and _acted_ on it: let them do likewise, there is nothing to prevent them. But no: the French Socialist sees in imagination a whole state working for him; he has no idea of commencing by practising the stern virtues of industry, and abstinence, and fortitude. His mode of thinking is this--a certain being called Society is to do everything _for him_--at the cost, perhaps, of some slight service rendered upon his part. If he is poor, it is society that keeps him so; if he is vicious, it is society that makes him so--upon society rest all our crimes, and devolve all our duties.