If this is true of what may be called the wealthier classes of the community, it is, we are sorry to say, still more true of the agricultural class. The agricultural class is continually complimented by the press and public debaters,-nay, it even compliments itself, with being the "bone and sinew of the country"-the "substantial yeomanry” -the followers of the most natural and "noblest occupation," &c. &c. But the truth is, that in a country like this, knowledge is not only power; it is also influence and position; and the farmers, as a class, are the least educated, and therefore the least powerful, the least influential, the least respected class in the community.

This state of things is all wrong, and we deplore it—but the way to mend it is not by feeding farmers with compliments, but with plain truths. As a natural consequence of belonging to the least powerful and least influential class, the sons and daughters of farmers-we mean the smartest sons and daughters-those who might raise up and elevate the condition of the whole class, if they would recognize the dignity and value of their calling, and put their talents into it-are no sooner able to look around and choose for themselves, than they bid good bye to farming. It is too slow for the boys, and not genteel enough for the girls.

All the education of the schools they go to, has nothing to do with making a farmer of a talented boy, or a farmer's wife of a bright and clever girl-but a great deal to do with unmaking them, by pointing out the superior advantages of merchandise, and the "honorable" professions. At home, it is the same thing. The farmer's son and daughter find less of the agreeable and attractive, and more of the hard and sordid at their fire-side, than in the houses of any other class of equal means. This helps to decide them to leave "dull care" to dull spirits, and choose some field of life which has more attractions, as well as more risks, than their own.

We have stated all this frankly, because we believe it to be a false and bad state of things which cannot last. The farming class of America is not a rich class—but neither is it a poor one-while it is an independent class. It may and should wield the largest influence in the state, and it might and should enjoy the most happiness-the happiness belonging to intelligent minds, peaceful homes, a natural and independent position, and high social and moral virtues. We have said much, already, of the special schools which the farmer should have to teach him agriculture as a practical art, so that he might make it compare in profit, and in the daily application of knowledge which it demands, with any other pursuit. But we have said little or nothing. of the farmer's home education and social influences--though these perhaps lie at the very root of the whole matter.

We are not ignorant of the powerful influence of woman, in any question touching the improvement of our social and home education. In fact it is she who holds all the power in this sphere; it is she, who really but silently, directs, controls, leads and governs the whole social machine-whether among farmers or others, in this country. To the women of the rural districts-the more intelligent and sensible of the farmer's wives and daughters, we appeal then, for a better understanding and a more correct appreciation of their true position. If they will but study to raise the character of the farmer's social life, the whole matter is accomplished. But this must be done truthfully

and earnestly, and with a profound faith in the true nobility and dignity of the farmer's calling. It must not be done by taking for social growth the finery and gloss of mere city customs and observances. It is an improvement that can never come from the atmosphere of boarding schools and colleges as they are now constituted, for boarding schools and colleges pity the farmer's ignorance, and despise him for it. It must, on the contrary, come from an intelligent conviction of the honesty and dignity of rural life; a conviction that as agriculture embraces the sphere of God's most natural and beautiful operations, it is the best calculated, when rightly understood, to elevate and engage man's faculties; that, as it feeds and sustains the nation, it is the basis of all material wealth; and as it supports all other professions and callings, it is intrinsically the parent and superior of them all. Let the American farmer's wife never cease to teach her sons, that though other callings may be more lucrative, yet there is none so true and so safe as that of the farmer,-let her teach her daughters that, fascinating and brilliant as many other positions appear outwardly, there is none with so much intrinsic satisfaction as the life of a really intelligent proprietor of the soil, and above all, let her show by the spirit of intelligence, order, neatness, taste, and that beauty of propriety, which is the highest beauty in her home, that she really knows, understands, and enjoys, her position as a wife and mother of a farmer's family-let us have but a few carnest apostles of this kind, and the condition and prosperity of the agricultural class, intellectually and socially, will brighten, as the day brightens after the first few bars of golden light tinge the eastern horizon.

We are glad to see and record such signs of daybreak-in the shape of a recognition of the low social state which we deplore, and a cry for reform-which now and then make themselves heard, here and there, in the country. MAJOR PATRICK— a gentleman whom we have not the pleasure of knowing, though we most cordially shake hands with him mentally, has delivered an address before the Jefferson county Agricultural Society, in the state of New-York, in which he has touched with no ordinary skill, upon this very topic. The two pictures which follow are as faithful as those of a Dutch master, and we hang them up here, conspicuously, in our columns, as being more worthy of study by our farmer's families, than any pictures that the ART UNION will distribute this year, among all those that will be scattered from Maine to Missouri.

"An industrious pair, some twenty or thirty years ago, commenced the world with strong hands, stout hearts, robust health, and steady habits. By the blessing of Heaven their industry has been rewarded with plenty, and their labors have been crowned with success. The dense forest has given place to stately orchards of fruits, and fertile fields, and waving meadows, and verdant pastures, covered with evidences of worldly prosperity. The log cabin is gone, and in its stead a fair white house, two stories, and a wing with kitchen in the rear, flanked by barns, and cribs, and granaries, and dairy houses.

But take a nearer view. Ha! what means this mighty crop of unmown thistles bordering the road. For what market is that still mightier crop of pigweed, dock and nettles destined, that fills up the space they call the "garden?" And look at those wide, unsightly thickets of elm, and sumac, and briers, and choke-cherry, that mark the lines of every fence!

If this is true of what may be called the wealthier classes of the community, it is, we are sorry to say, still more true of the agricultural class. The agricultural class is continually complimented by the press and public debaters,-nay, it even compliments. itself, with being the "bone and sinew of the country"-the "substantial yeomanry" -the followers of the most natural and "noblest occupation," &c. &c. But the truth is, that in a country like this, knowledge is not only power; it is also influence and position; and the farmers, as a class, are the least educated, and therefore the least powerful, the least influential, the least respected class in the community.

This state of things is all wrong, and we deplore it but the way to mend it is not by feeding farmers with compliments, but with plain truths. As a natural consequence of belonging to the least powerful and least influential class, the sons and daughters of farmers-we mean the smartest sons and daughters-those who might raise up and elevate the condition of the whole class, if they would recognize the dignity and value of their calling, and put their talents into it—are no sooner able to look around and choose for themselves, than they bid good bye to farming. It is too slow for the boys, and not genteel enough for the girls.

All the education of the schools they go to, has nothing to do with making a farmer of a talented boy, or a farmer's wife of a bright and clever girl-but a great deal to do with unmaking them, by pointing out the superior advantages of merchandise, and the "honorable" professions. At home, it is the same thing. The farmer's son and daughter find less of the agreeable and attractive, and more of the hard and sordid at their fire-side, than in the houses of any other class of equal means. This helps to decide them to leave "dull care" to dull spirits, and choose some field of life which has more attractions, as well as more risks, than their own.

We have stated all this frankly, because we believe it to be a false and bad state of things which cannot last. The farming class of America is not a rich class-but neither is it a poor one-while it is an independent class. It may and should wield the largest influence in the state, and it might and should enjoy the most happiness-the happiness belonging to intelligent minds, peaceful homes, a natural and independent position, and high social and moral virtues. We have said much, already, of the special schools which the farmer should have to teach him agriculture as a practical art, so that he might make it compare in profit, and in the daily application of knowledge which it demands, with any other pursuit. But we have said little or nothing of the farmer's home education and social influences--though these perhaps lie at the very root of the whole matter.

We are not ignorant of the powerful influence of woman, in any question touching the improvement of our social and home education. In fact it is she who holds all the power in this sphere; it is she, who really but silently, directs, controls, leads and governs the whole social machine-whether among farmers or others, in this country. To the women of the rural districts—the more intelligent and sensible of the farmer's wives and daughters, we appeal then, for a better understanding and a more correct appreciation of their true position. If they will but study to raise the character of the farmer's social life, the whole matter is accomplished. But this must be done truthfully

and earnestly, and with a profound faith in the true nobility and dignity of the farmer's calling. It must not be done by taking for social growth the finery and gloss of mere city customs and observances. It is an improvement that can never come from the atmosphere of boarding schools and colleges as they are now constituted, for boarding schools and colleges pity the farmer's ignorance, and despise him for it. It must, on the contrary, come from an intelligent conviction of the honesty and dignity of rural life; a conviction that as agriculture embraces the sphere of God's most natural and beautiful operations, it is the best calculated, when rightly understood, to elevate and engage man's faculties; that, as it feeds and sustains the nation, it is the basis of all material wealth; and as it supports all other professions and callings, it is intrinsically the parent and superior of them all. Let the American farmer's wife never cease to teach her sons, that though other callings may be more lucrative, yet there is none so true and so safe as that of the farmer, let her teach her daughters that, fascinating and brilliant as many other positions appear outwardly, there is none with so much intrinsic satisfaction as the life of a really intelligent proprietor of the soil, and above all, let her show by the spirit of intelligence, order, neatness, taste, and that beauty of propriety, which is the highest beauty in her home, that she really knows, understands, and enjoys, her position as a wife and mother of a farmer's family-let us have but a few carnest apostles of this kind, and the condition and prosperity of the agricultural class, intellectually and socially, will brighten, as the day brightens after the first few bars of golden light tinge the eastern horizon.

We are glad to see and record such signs of daybreak-in the shape of a recognition of the low social state which we deplore, and a cry for reform-which now and then make themselves heard, here and there, in the country. MAJOR PATRICKa gentleman whom we have not the pleasure of knowing, though we most cordially shake hands with him mentally, has delivered an address before the Jefferson county Agricultural Society, in the state of New-York, in which he has touched with no ordinary skill, upon this very topic. The two pictures which follow are as faithful as those of a Dutch master, and we hang them up here, conspicuously, in our columns, as being more worthy of study by our farmer's families, than any pictures that the ART UNION will distribute this year, among all those that will be scattered from Maine to Missouri.

"An industrious pair, some twenty or thirty years ago, commenced the world with strong hands, stout hearts, robust health, and steady habits. By the blessing of Heaven their industry has been rewarded with plenty, and their labors have been crowned with success. The dense forest has given place to stately orchards of fruits, and fertile fields, and waving meadows, and verdant pastures, covered with evidences of worldly prosperity. The log cabin is gone, and in its stead a fair white house, two stories, and a wing with kitchen in the rear, flanked by barns, and cribs, and granaries, and dairy houses.

But take a nearer view. Ha! what means this mighty crop of unmown thistles bordering the road. For what market is that still mightier crop of pigweed, dock and nettles destined, that fills up the space they call the "garden?" And look at those wide, unsightly thickets of elm, and sumac, and briers, and choke-cherry, that mark the lines of every fence!

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Approach the house, built in the road to be convenient, and save land! Two stories and a wing, and every blind shut close as a miser's fist, without a tree, or shrub, or flower to break the air of barrenness and desolation around it. There it stands, white, glaring and ghastly as a pyramid of bones in the desert. Mount the unfrequented door stone, grown over with vile weeds, and knock till your knuckles are sore. It is a beautiful moonlight October evening; and as you stand upon that stone, a ringing laugh comes from the rear, and satisfies you that somebody lives there. Pass now around to the rear: but hold your nose when you come within range of the piggery, and have a care that you don't get swamped in the neighborhood of the sink spout. Enter the kitchen. Ha! here they are all alive, and here they live all together. The kitchen is the kitchen, the dining-room, the sitting-room, the room of all work. Here father sits with his hat on and in his shirt sleeves. Around him are his boys and hired men, some with hats and some with coats, an some with neither. The boys are busy shelling corn for samp; the hired men are scraping whip stocks and whittling bow pins, throwing every now and then a sheep's eye and a jest at the girls, who, with their mother, are doing-up the house-work. The younger fry are building cob-houses, parching corn, and burning their fingers. Not a book is to be seen, though the winter school has commenced, and the master is going to board there. Privacy is a word of unknown meaning in that family; and if a son or daughter should borrow a book, it would be almost impossible to read it in that room; and on no occasion is the front house opened, except when "company come to spend the afternoon," or when things are brushed and dusted, and "set to rights."

Yet these are as honest, as worthy and kind-hearted people as you will find anywhere, and are studying out some way of getting their younger children into a better position than they themselves occupy. They are in easy circumstances, owe nothing, and have money loaned on bond and mortgage. After much consultation, a son is placed at school that he may be fitted to go into a store, or possibly an office, to study a profession; and a daughter is sent away to learn books, and manners, and gentility. On this son or daughter, or both, the hard earnings of years are lavished; and they are reared up in the belief that whatever smacks of the country, is vulgar-that the farmer is necessarily ill bred, and his calling ignoble.

Now, will any one say that this picture is overdrawn? I think not. But let us see if there is not a ready way to change the whole expression and character of the picture, almost without cost or trouble. I would point out an easier, happier, and more economical way of educating those children, far more thoroughly, while at the same time the minds of the parents are expanded, and they are prepared to enjoy, in the society of their educated children, the fruits of their own early industry.

And first: let the front part of that house be thrown open, and the most convenient, agreeable, and pleasant room in it, be selected as the family room. Let its doors be ever open, and when the work of the kitchen is completed, let mothers and daughters be found there, with their appropriate work. Let it be the room where the family altar is erected, on which the father offers the morning and the evening sacrifice. Let it be consecrated to Neatness, and Purity, and Truth. Let no hat ever be seen in that room on the head of its owner, [unless he be a Quaker friend;] let no coatl ss individual be permitted to enter it. If father's head is bald, (and some there are in that predicament,) his daughter will be proud to see his temples covered by the neat and graceful silken cap that her own hands have fashioned for him. If the coat he wears by day is too heavy for the evening, calicoes are cheap, and so is cotton wadding. A few shillings placed in that daughter's hand, ensures him the most comfortable wrapper in the world; and if his boots are hard, and the