It is estimated that three fourths of the people of the United States are agriculturists, and nearly all the rest laborers of some sort dependent upon them. Every economist knows that the interests of agriculture, manufactures, and commerce are one and indivisible. He who by word or deed helps one, helps all, and thereby moves civilization onward one step at least. Before our Government takes hold of the condition of agriculture in the United States as a state measure, and even after it comes up to the hour when we shall have a Secretary of Agriculture, Manufactures, and Commerce in the cabinet, after the manner of France, Italy, and Prussia, the farmer himself, individually, must work some important and radical changes in his social and industrial polity, and prepare himself for the generous assistance of a wise and beneficent Government. The farmer supports every other material interest. Standing upon the primary strata of civilization, he bears on his broad hands and stout shoulders the 'weight of mightiest monarchies.' Daniel Webster calls him 'the founder of civilization.' Is it at all necessary that the spring in the hills should be cool, clear, and pure, and wind its way over a granitic soil, through green meadows, beneath the shading forest, into a sandy basin, to form a beautiful lake in a retired, rural retreat? If so, is it at all necessary that the moral virtues of the founders of society should be duly educated, cultured into the soul, leaving the impress on generation after generation, of honor, of order, of manliness, of thrift? The condition of the farmers is the postulate by which the sagacious economist will foretell the future prosperity of the nation they represent. This is what the American farmer should have presented to him from every stand-point. It is lamentable that this vocation should be so sadly represented by the most of those who are engaged in it.