DEAR FRIENDS, if I may so call you: I read in the New York Tribune a piece taken from the Dial, headed "The West Roxbury Community." Now what I want to know is, can I and my children be admitted into your society, and be better off than we are here? I have enough of the plainest kind to eat and wear. I have no home but what we hire from year to year. I have no property but movables, and not a cent to spare when the year comes round. I have three children, two boys and one girl: the oldest fourteen, the youngest nine. Now I want to educate them. How shall I do it in the country? There is no chance but ordinary schools. To move into the village I could not bring the year round, and the danger they would be exposed to without a father to restrain their wanderings, would be an undertaking more than I dare attempt.
Now if you should presume to let me come, where can I live? Can our industry and economy clothe us for the year? Can I keep a cow? How can I be supplied with fire in that dear place? How can I pay my school bills? How can I find all the necessary requisites for my children to advance in learning? If I should wish to leave in two or three or five years, could I and mine, if I paid my way whilst there? If you should let me come, and I think best to go, how shall I get there? What would be my best and cheapest route?
How should I proceed with what I have here, sell all off or bring a part? I have three beds and bedding, one cow and ordinary things enough to keep house. My children are all called tolerable scholars. My daughter is the youngest; the neighbors call her an interesting child. I have no pretensions to make; my only object is to enjoy the good of the society and have my children educated and accomplished.
Am I to send my boys off to work alone, or will they have a kind person to say, "Come boys," and relieve me from the heavy task of bringing up my boys with nothing to do it with?
If your religion has a name I should like well enough to know it; if not, and the substance is love to God and good-will to men, my mind is well enough satisfied. I have reflected on this subject ever since I read the article alluded to, and now I want you to write me every particular; then if you and I think best, in the spring I will come to you. We are none of us what may be called weakly. I am forty-six years old; able to do as much every day as to spin what is called a day's work—not that I expect you spin much there, only that is the amount of my strength as it now holds out.
I should wish to seek intelligence, as you must know 1 lack greatly, and I cannot endure the thought my children must lack as greatly, whilst multitudes are going so far in advance, no better qualified by nature than they. I want you to send me quite a number of names of your leading characters. If it should seem strange to you that I make the demand, I will explain it to you when I get there. I want you to answer every item of this letter and as much more as can have any bearing on my mind, either way, whether you accept this letter kindly or not. I want you to write an answer without delay! Are there meetings for us to attend? Do you have singing schools?
I do thus far feel friendly to your society.
Direct your letter to, etc.
M. R. JOHNSON.
A Southern Applicant.