It was, in short, a society of brethren; every individual of which
was equally ready to give, and to receive, what he thought the common
right of mankind. So perfect a harmony naturally prevented all those
connections of gallantry which are so often fatal to the peace of
families. This evil was prevented by early marriages, for no one passed
his youth in a state of celibacy. As soon as a young man arrived to the
proper age, the community built him a house, broke up the lands about it,
and supplied him with all the necessaries of life for a twelvemonth. There
he received the partner whom he had chosen, and who brought him her
portion in flocks. This new family grew and prospered like the others. In
1755, all together made a population of eighteen thousand souls. Such is
the picture of these people, as drawn by the Abbe Reynal. By many, it is
thought to represent a state of social happiness totally inconsistent with
the frailties and passions of human nature, and that it is worthy rather
of the poet than the historian. In describing a scene of rural felicity
like this, it is not improbable that his narrative has partaken of the
warmth of feeling for which he was remarkable; but it comes much nearer
the truth than is generally imagined. Tradition is fresh and positive in
the various parts of the United States where they were located respecting
their guileless, peaceable, and scrupulous character; and the descendants
of those, whose long cherished and endearing local attachment induced them
to return to the land of their nativity, still deserve the name of a mild,
frugal, and pious people."

[I] At the present moment, the poor in the Township of Clare are
maintained by the inhabitants at large; and being members of one great
family, spend the remainder of their days in visits from house to house.
An illegitimate child is almost unknown in the settlements.

As we rest here upon the summit of the Gasperau Mountain, and look down on
yonder valley, we can readily imagine such a people. A pastoral people,
rich in meadow-lands, secured by laborious dykes, and secluded from the
struggling outside world. But we miss the thatch-roof cottages, by
hundreds, which should be the prominent feature in the picture, the vast
herds of cattle, the belfries of scattered village chapels, the murmur of
evening fields,

"Where peace was tinkling in the shepherd's bell,
And singing with the reapers."

These no longer exist:

"N