It is the misfortune of men to push their experiments, when disposed at all to quit the beaten track, into impracticable extremes, and to overlook a thousand intermediate benefits that might really be attainable. Every one, of any penetration or common sense, must have seen, at a glance, that the social scheme of Mr. Owen was chimerical, inasmuch as it was destructive of that principle of individuality by which men can be induced to bestow the labour and energy that alone can raise a community to the level of a high civilization,—or when raised, can keep it there. Still his details suggest many exceedingly useful hints, which, by being carried out, would add immeasurably to the comfort and security of the poor in towns. What a charity, for instance, would a plan something like the following become!—Let there be a company formed to erect buildings of great size, to lodge the labouring mechanics and manufacturers. Such an edifice might be raised on arches, if necessary, with composition floors. It might enjoy every facility of water and heat, and even of cooking and washing, on a large scale, and, of course, economically. The price of rooms could be graduated according to means, and space obtained for the exercise of children in the greater area of so many united lots. Even entire streets might be constructed on this community-plan, the whole being subject to a company-police. Here, however, the community principle should cease, and each individual be left to his own efforts. America may not need such a provision for the poor; but Europe would greatly benefit by taking the practicable and rejecting the impracticable features of the Owen System. Among other benefits, there would be fewer fires. LETTER XXXII. Wearisome calm of Venice.—The Canals and Port the chief resort for recreation.—Garden planted by Napoleon.—Misconception respecting the Rialto.—The Bridge of Sighs.—Palaces.—The canals without footways on their margin.—Intercourse by land.—The Grand Canal.—The Lido.—The Islands. Although Venice was so attractive at first, in the absence of acquaintances it soon became monotonous and wearying. A town in which the sounds of hoof and wheel are never known, in which the stillness of the narrow ravine-like canals, is seldom broken, unless by the fall of an oar, or the call of the gondolier,—fatigues by its unceasing calm; and although the large canals, the square, and the port offer livelier scenes, one soon gets to feel a longing for further varieties. If I do not remember to have been so much struck with any other place on entering it, I do not recollect ever to have been so soon tired of a residence in a capital. It is true, we knew no one, nor did any one know us; and an exclamation of pleasure escaped me on suddenly meeting the _Grognon_, in the Piazzetta; a pleasure which, I regret to say, did not seem reciprocal. But he had just arrived.