XLVIII. TWO SCHOOLS OF SOCIALISM 658 AMERICAN SOCIALISMS. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. Many years ago, when a branch of the Oneida Community lived at Willow Place in Brooklyn, near New York, a sombre pilgrim called there one day, asking for rest and conversation. His business proved to be the collecting of memoirs of socialistic experiments. We treated him hospitably, and gave him the information he sought about our Community. He repeated his visit several times in the course of some following years, and finally seemed to take a very friendly interest in our experiment. Thus we became acquainted with him, and also in a measure with the work he had undertaken, which was nothing less than a history of all the Associations and Communities that have lived and died in this country, within the last thirty or forty years. This man's name was A.J. Macdonald. We remember that he was a person of small stature, with black hair and sharp eyes. He had a benevolent air, but seemed a little sad. We imagined that the sad scenes he had encountered while looking after the stories of so many short-lived Communities, had given him a tinge of melancholy. He was indeed the "Old Mortality" of Socialism, wandering from grave to grave, patiently deciphering the epitaphs of defunct "Phalanxes." We learned from him that he was a Scotchman by birth, and a printer by trade; that he was an admirer and disciple of Owen, and came from the "old country" some ten years before, partly to see and follow the fortunes of his master's experiments in Socialism: but finding Owenism in ruins and Fourierism going to ruin, he took upon himself the task of making a book, that should give future generations the benefit of the lessons taught by these attempts and failures. His own attempt was a failure. He gathered a huge mass of materials, wrote his preface, and then died in New York of the cholera. Our record of his last visit is dated February, 1854. Ten years later our attention was turned to the project of writing a history of American Socialisms. Such a book seemed to be a want of the times. We remembered Macdonald, and wished that by some chance we could obtain his collections. But we had lost all traces of them, and the hope of recovering them from the chaos of the great city where he died, seemed chimerical. Nevertheless some of our associates, then in business on Broadway, commenced inquiring at the printing offices, and soon found acquaintances of Macdonald, who directed them to the residence of his brother-in-law in the city. There, to our joyful surprise, we found the collections we were in search of, lying useless except as mementos, and a gentleman in charge of them who was willing we should take them and use them as we pleased.