Very different scenes, and very different faces to those I had just seen in New York met us here.
When we arrived at the little dark wooded gorge which serves as a sort of portal to the territory of the Harmonious association, we were surprised by the sight of Marcus S., who came driving along in his “buggy” drawn by Dolly; buggy, Dolly, and Marcus himself, all garlanded with the blossoming wild clematis. I alighted from the wagon and seated myself beside Marcus, and thus we advanced slowly towards the Phalanstery, seated in a flowery, fragrant arbour. We were met in the park by the children and young people, and even by some elderly ones all wearing green garlands and flowers. It was the most beautiful and the gayest procession which can be conceived. As we passed along we saw a group of agricultural labourers standing in the shade of a tree, busied in eating an immense water-melon. It was just now dinner-time.
Marcus S. had, during last year, built himself a lovely little house at the Phalanstery, in order to enjoy there, with his family, the good air and sea-bathing during the summer. The family lived by themselves, but took their meals at the Phalanstery. I had here, as formerly at Rose Cottage, my own room in the house of my friends; and I now accompanied them to dinner at the Phalanstery.
Dinner was spread on small, separate tables, twelve or fourteen in number, in a very large, oblong hall, with windows in two sides; the freshest air was admitted by these lofty windows. At the bottom of the hall was placed a well-executed but somewhat fantastic painting of the Phalansterian Association in its perfected state on earth. And above this were the words, “The Great Joy,” formed in evergreen leaves.
The tables, which would each conveniently accommodate from ten to twelve guests, were brilliant with white linen and porcelain. The group of waiters consisted of hand-
