The New York Herald Newspaper, July 18, 1851, Page 6

ORIGINAL ARTICLE Tere Military Bounty Land Certificates of the United States. We have been favored, by General James Arling- fton Bennet, of long Island, with an inspection of the Waited States Military Bounty Land Certificate {issued to him for his services as an officer of the Ist Regiment United States Artillery, in the war of 1912. It is the handsomest document we have ever geen issued by the government. It is # fine Steel engraving, and printed on a sheet of — inches by — of superior bank note paper. The certificate thas a flower border, and at each of the upper cor- Bers is a shield of the United States, on which are the figures 160. Underneath the words “‘ Depart- tment of the Interior,” is a beautiful vignette—an American soldier, just returned home, and standing by bis wife, is about embracing his child, a little boy, who has thrown aside his drum and other play- things on the ground, and is rushing to his father’s arms. The musket, knapsack, and other military accoutrements of the soldier, are seen laying be hind him. On the right hand of the figures, a river meanders through a pleasant valley, and on its banks are seen farm houses, and in the distance a Fillage. On the right side of the face of the cer- ‘tificate, an United States Artillery soldier stands, barebeaded, with a brave and noble countenance, leaning againrt a cannon, and supporting the star Spangled banner; and on the opposite side, an American husbandman is sharpening his scythe, behind whom are mills, anda bridge, and a rail- road and cars. Beneath the artillery man is an excellent portrait of President Taylor, medallion size, beside which is the seal—a stamp—of the ** Department of the Interior,” and on the opposite tide, an equally good likeness of l’resident Fillmore. On the face of the sheet, the words, “ Bounty Land,” “160,” “Acres,” appear in red, and be- Meath them in the middle, and at the bottom, just mbove the border, is the head and bust of a female | Andian, with a quiver at her back, anda head dress of feathers. The following is a copy of the certificate, Bé nearly as we can make it:— need $°hee hte: i a ot : B33 TS 2 FA $27 $5 SUE 5 $s =F 58 gee S. cay 3 Seg GS wos 5 is iy oie z e Ss =S3 a 3 met BS S42 ° 2s? & s&s g A me fare fe . EFF & eae ° 3 ; ga: fie, 8 & 2s & F2-3 8.098 sa? 82°33. oog 2 GF? gf. 222289;5 eee S exe 3-3 23553532 ge PF Bee F og FREES O5= Ore andes 2 GRE oS = Ee gee =z a3 2 4 une BEE re. | Fs Ss § - EI 3 BE ae ££ hf Ff { 532 3 . 5. : e Peat sey Ff i: § it z 55 4 200000 Norr-—You can locate this certific: United States Land Offices, or it by the General Lard Officrr on the retura of it with request to that effect endorsed thereon, «pecifying The Btate and land district in. which you wish the loea- © at any of the tion made. If you locate it, fll up and sign the follow. ing application — To tHe Reowren or tar Lanp Orrice, ‘ ar —————, 18 Locate this Certificate in the ——— quarter of section =— in township of range ———_-_—— A _ Register —— The law disposing of the public lands to soldiers Of the old State wars, has been approved of in all quarters. framed, 80 as to keep the donations out of the hands of speculators and jobbers The Fashionable Summer Emigration. The annua! emigration from the metropolis to | the innumerable watering places, so called, spread | opposition talent and genius meet w' over the face of the country and ali along shore, is ‘One of the most curious, comical, characteristic, quizzical, and altogether remarkable phenomena which the society of the New World has produced. Of late years, the custom, like all other metropoli- tan fashions, bas been imitated in a small way by the other cities on the Atlantic coast, whose con- ‘vulsive efforts at establishing aud sustaining magail- Oquent sounding “watoring pla: as ludicrous as their comforts and conven are pitiable "The old-fashioned quietude and refroehing serenity of these small and pleasant places, situated in the shady and remote portions of the country, or lying | Buchanan the kind expressions of friendship. Long in solitude down by t oanding sea, have been | rudely broken into by a pele méle mob of snobs and | counter-jumping aristocracy, who have turned every | ‘ated the most sacred haauts e, frightened the dryads forest from their cool and subverted the delici »us places t+ shades and drooping whole natural economy their shallow, garish and ridicaious displays of | flesting upon, not as evidences of something that gaudy dress, immoral amuse ments, and vulgar rivalries especially civilized women and young ladies, never made a more laughable exhibition of all the weak os incident to poor human nature, than at these quipages, ne petty every party erects itself into an exclusive set—the standard and the nucleus of all fashion and good breeding ; where impadence and brass take prece- dence of beauty and merit; where money, and the vulgar ge #-gaws it can purchase, are the only pass Ports to respectability; and whore whatever is good sincere, honest and chivalric is completely lost sigh of and systematically despised watering places, where every family and by Divine wisdom, have their uses. They serve es pecially to set afloat and restore to the circulating medium of the country, the hoarded thousand grined by stingy intrigue or dishonest speculation the other months in the year; and affori a subject of rivalry, volicitude, and ambition, to a large class of shallow brained and weak minded people, who have no other possible object to excite their interest, and who, but for these annual excur- sions and their accompanying flummery, would be come positively insufferable But the summer emigration from the metropolis is fast growing of a more important and noticeable character. The namerous and rapidly increasing class of our really wealthy families—the strong in- fusion of foreign manners, languages, fashions, etiquettc, and style, into our fashionable society, are fast communicating (> it n homogeneous character, forming the substratum of a real aristoeracy, com poved of the three elements of wealth, intelligence, and ton, which, in a few years, will crystalize into @ voritable, respectable, and self sustaining aristo- feracy. Wedo not look with the distrust enter- tained, or affected, by many, upon this natural, ra- ‘tional, and inevitable developement of republican soviety. The object and effect of republican insti- tutions is not to destroy these social distinctions, the germs of which have been planted by the Urea. tor himself, bat to substitute for the false and op- prossive systems created by the antiquity of family and the law of primogeniture, elements of real social distinction, founded upon energy of charac ter, moral Worth, intellectual greatness, and emi- gence of distinguished services or achievements Do this kind of aristocracy all must bow, for it t, ill be located for you | It is to be wished that it had been | Civilized mea, aod | Yes oven these | displays, we suppose, like everything else permitted | patented and authorized by the law of nature and | ral; and here we may well take occasion to approve the law of God. the remarkable and uncommon exeellence of the Such an aristocracy we must inevitably have in | emphasis which Buchanan uses, to produce a cor- New York; but the preliminary movements and | rect impression of his author's meaning. Tho col - motions in the process of its formation are curious | loquial beauty of his style is a charm in which all and interesting enough. Snobbery seems to be the green gooseberry, which, in its ripened state, is destined to give forth the wine of a pure blooded aristocracy—not as in London, confined by the necessities of the case toa single and small class, easily analyzed, and grasped by the ossayist and the painter of society. Here it pervades all ranks, all classes, and all professions. The essence of snob. bery, in all times and places, is, trying to be what one is not. What bombast is in literature, rant in acting, overcharged drawing and color in painting, trombones and opheiclydes in music, and stained windows, damask sofas, and red silk tassels in religion—snobbery is in society. The frog who | tried to swell herself to the size of her bovine visi- ter, was an intense snob; and, like many of our snobs of Union Square, and elsewhere, “busted” in the effort. Puseyism, which apes the fantasti sals of Catholicism without daring to embra:e its aus- tere charities and solemn self-cxamination;, is un- mitigated snobbery. Gingerbread five story free- Stone houses, with brick ends and bass wood back | and meaning. We are happy that we did not lose sides, are painfully snobbish; almost as much so as | a syllable of it—not merely for our selfish enjoy- ‘he over-dressed, rude, loud-talking people who in- | ment of the personation, but that we may have a habit them. The carriages owned by mechanics’ | right to speak of it as its merits demand, while we sons, with baronial quarterings and ducal! coronets | are cognizant of its faults. And here we may re- upon the panels and the platings of the harness, | mark that those whe look in upon a s.ene here and and with a couple of miserable wretches sweltering | there, of a performance, are totally unqualified for 4n broadcloth surtouts, wish six capes and standing | any opinion upon a work of art. We should as ollars, buttoned up to the chia, with the thermome- | son think of criticising the great group of Laocoon, er at 92 in the shade, are splendid illustrations of | by looking only at the serpent, at one of the boys, nobbery. Parties got up by pasteboard false pre- | at the feet, or atthe beard, or arm. Yet of such ences,and through well-paid intercession wit h Sex- | opinions are the decisions of some who do not seem | on Brown, and which are advertised in the penny | to be guided either by an admiration of the drama | papers as having cost so many thousand dollars | or by adesire to see unquestioned taleut—especially for flowers and sugar candy, are the very hot-beds | of American growth—fairly treated. And here of snobbery, where it grows and flourishes as luxu- | we will allude to some condemnatory decisions. The iantly as onions in Weathersfield, or cabbages in | origin of these is well known in the metropolis, and | Kinderhook. they have been prompted by the same spirit that But the arena where snobbery finds its greatest | has caused attacks upon the great artiste, Parodi. reedom, and enjoys its most unrestricted develope- | It is not, we suspect, Buchanan who is opposed, but | ment, is the summer watering places. In town, the | silent influence of the really refined and educated | ence, the manliness, the clear perception of truth, classes, and the lynx-eyed vigilance of the independ- | the determination—irrespective of all partialities ent pross, which siezes upon and tears in sport every | and friendships—to single out talent of a high or- absurd and ludicrous developement of life and so- | der, and to sustain it. Those who know the truth. if be has any thing in his reading to avoid, it habit, common to some actors of high reputation— thatof making, occasionally, monotonous cwsatas inthe rhythm of blank verse. Poetry can never charm so much as when it is uttered, with a direst purpose, fromthe heart. The moment that it is proclaimed to be poetry, the illusion ceases to have any interest. So with respect to action. A redundancy of similar gestures is a grave error. ‘There was too much of this in Buchanaa. We have not space to note all the merits of Bu- chanan’s Jago; but in recording our impression of it, we are bound to say that it was a very clode per- formance, ntwithstanding faults of gesticalation. Never did he let the spectator lose sight of Iago, and see the actor, except where he unhappily re- peated some of his effects. It was a continuous whole—unlike any Iago we ever saw—Macready’s, Booth’s Brookes’, or Vandenhoff’: grand concep tion, completely defined, and full of intellectuality it is the New York Herald, that has the independ- | fair curiosity should be gratified. McKean lat ke Reetensiest to bis own individual exer- tions for all the euccess he has met with in life, or onthe stage Twelve years ago, while a boy, he performed at an amateur establishment in’ this city. se ner ery woe wy ep one witk an independent spirit, he yy his own labor, for a asnge to New Orleans. There he soon ingratiated imscif into the esteem of her citizens, and by per- severance and industry rose to a high rank asa merchant. Iie was the warm patron of the dra- watic art, and bis generous im we learn, have been, for ten years past, of great service to these who have professionally visited that sity —how ungratefully returned, in some instanves, it is bess to forget. Some few years ago, he estab- lished an #mateur theatre in that city—still carried on with success—and there it was that be had oppor- tunities for some portion ofhis practice in the art. In one of bis visits to this city, he performed a teur engagement with considerable success; and, after returning to New Orleans, closed his business as@weichunt, in which he had gained an honor- ame; and, two years ago, announced his in- tention to make the stage his entire care and study. A year ago list spring, he again visited this city, and performed a tair engagement at the Broadway theatre. It was near the close of the season, but he made a favorable lnprsetinn—008 excited the hopes of this journal and the public for a brilliant futuie for him. From that hour he was encouraged in his arduous and up-hill work, and, more pe larly, because his talents seemed to provoke much envious malice—evidences of which came directly to our own ears. It was at this time, too, that tl talent exhibited by the tragedian attracted the at tention of one ef our writers. He had by him a tragedy—* Cwcinna”—written orginally for the elder Vaidenboff. The production was ‘placed at the disposal of Buchanan. In twenty-four hours he decided to appear in it, and, without » suggestion from the author, and without any alteration of his scenes, he subsequently produced it in New York and in every principal city of the Union. This fact, so creditable to the tragedian, has had its weight with us, because it shows that the artist has a mind willing and bold to grasp new characters—that does | hot wrap itself in its own selfish mantle, but which | is ready to meet the diamatists of our country with & generoue feeling, and with a prompt decision, un- like anything heretofore known to the American | stage. Envy may misreprerent the motives of critics, or the merits of artists, but as no critic can elevate, by fulsome praise or senseless eulogium, any work of art which does not bear the test of true criticism, 80, also, individual caprice, indifference, detraction, or malice, can never long stand opposed to the object of public admira tion and esteem. | The Baptist Church tn the United States— | Its Rise, Progress, and Present Condition. | ‘This important church, which is one of the largest | | back as far as the Waldenses, for which reason, it ciety, exercise a strong restraining influence, and know very well that we are not in the habit of plac- | | gnobbery sneaks stealthily about what it has | todo, and only holds up its head for an hour or | ow an honest judgment, and that even in matters | two, while safely locked in the gaslight privacy | of art, justice is the end we aim at. We saw Bu- of its gilded and over-furnished drawing-rooms. chanan’s merits at first. We sustained him, ia his | At the watering places it takes free scope, and early struggle, with as much encouragement as his | jpdulges with impunity im every absurd freak | talent warranted; and now that we have seen not | of extravagance and folly which mediocrity, | only his rapid improvement, but his finish of style, | goaded to madness by the ichor of ambi- | we boldly claim for him the highest rank in the art. | tion, can conceive and give birth to. The antics | He has fewer faults than many of the great actors the pleasureless and exhausting bneacl mene the who have preceded him, and his mental vigor stamp, | questionable morals and unquestionable manners, | him as worthy of the first regard. We have had | which reign at our summer watering places, the ionils: k ke Charl convulsive struggles of rival families and coteries ®*imilar task to make lotte Cushman, Pa- to surpass each other in the cost of their accommo- | rodi, and others, known to the American public for ae furniture of yer} oe the oxtrava- their genius; and we do not regret that there is op- ance of their equipages, and the glaring vulgarity | 5 5, South | SPinets iecia ine celeainne eaten of costae “| Position enough to make the victory worth winning. | the flirtations, the intrigues, the gambling, the de- | True art gains by it. pege ky a Pani e Lscareyg rare anne of | But we will glance at Buchanan’s Othello, to make ife at these fashionable resorts, if truly written, iti inti would make a volume of unequalled interest and at i hanmees by pointing out the nature of that | value to the student of social economy, and would Personation. We have never seen @ nobler Moor | form a contribution to practical philosophy of in- | than he who enters in the first act—diguified, with- ae rage fe pene ter ea > ae out blustering—able to reprimand his ancient, with- ar " this city, or in this country, seebbery taut be’ cx- out offending him—courteous to Brabantio—erect, tirpated, and its disciples cut off, root and branch. , in the consciousness of right, before the Senate, and aby cevctrghe ay J — a tag carina 3 ry » | full of love and pride at his conquest of Desdemona. ich OU; al a 1 01 simple and ef- ¥ | fectual way of performing this unos necgesary work | Not ® single fuult was seen in the whole act—and is by exposing the ridiculous pretensions of which | then how different was the style and gaitfrom what | this class is wi aga and showing it up ex- | was seen ia Buchanan’s lago! No two individuais pind Prete pe eothgel pooge Bg Boe could have been more distinct. Many beauties are 7 rad q . detected in the second act. The colloquial ease of pooner important element of our social develope- | 15) speeches isa great merit, and the elegant fa- ¥ | miliarity of— “ How do our cld acquaintance of the isle,” was worth a whole scene of modern, id, stilted elocution, and mock dignity. In the third act, the ‘The Tragedian, McKean Buchanan. | The recent personations by the American trago- dian, Buchanan, have become themes of discussion | andcf exultation among those who are always | ready tohail real histrionic genius. As in every other — beer that swarm bel cg megs mosqui- | overcharges it. It is, however, strictly Shakspea- toes which al s rise from the low marshes and | yean, and any one who remembers the original dirty pools, where envy and detraction lie inertly | text, will bear in mind that Othello is rej resented offensive, have done their work during the heat of | #8 bavin omens ar tape Pog hag rr } 2 ‘ | trance ue wil un | the excitement. But all this will have a good ef | Of course, Cet ag may be ve-y strongly exhibit: fect, because the public have decided, fully and | ed, particularly when much shade is brought in to emphatically, on the subject—aad, if we know how | vary = pon ep! boon pe og . i i oli select the speeches, “ Farewell the trump of war,” to judge, by expressions of satisfactionand delight | WeHiad th plaased heovan to ty ma,” po ba aM —independently of the conviction of our own rea- | subsequent interview with Desdemona, as parts of a sons—have forever stamped the tragedian as @ greatwhole, which we cannot hope to se surpassed. master of bis art. It is of little consequence what | Jt is unjust, perhaps, to separate the great current idea | of passion displayed in the scene. by pointing out 7 Provided | portions of it, but it may hereafter lead the dramatic the sympathies of literature and the drama have | student to be interested in a triumph of art seldom been excited by the triumphs of the individual. equalled by the great Rachel, whose personations . . é ‘, have the rarest excellence and vigor. Buehaaan’s Taste and discrimination are a match, atany time, tones, manner, muscular on, # gianees, aud for the shafts of malice, or for those mischievous | his attimudes, change with every new emotion, and arrows which are sent from the hands of men who he convinces you ot his earnestuess, or rather of the have no credit for any true love of the dramatic — ve page ee 4 pipe g0 over art, and whose ability to test the merits of | the Whole of this third act, and make outa cata- logue of beauties which would fairly itle t ale, and whose relish for it, may be moro promi- tist to the highest guerdon of fame; but we pre nent in their daily life, than avy delight for im, Sy hao _ eree oe, opane-e Saeed 7% sit down to it, as to a banquet, aston itas bibing the rich draughts of the ‘well of English | Soe of those encortainubnts which are seldom undefiled.” However, we need not waste words on those who affect to discover in an admiration of becomes fully developed; and such is the fearful passion and power exhibited in the great scene that a superficial critic might say that Buch‘inau preseuted for the appetite of the public, Passing over the fourth act, where passion, rage, and ten- derness ere strongly portrayed, we com? to the closing scene of the play. We found nothing to censure in the reading. On the contrary, the sense of the passage, ‘* Put out the light,” was most ad- mirably given, and the whole business of the scene Was managed with great The passage, “I’ve seen the day,” was beat lly rendered, and, like fifty other passages, commanded the spontaseous f the whole house—the audience as on every other evening, in the most significant manner, giving the artise the thet the public at large are true to the instinets of correct taste and ripe judgment —and are above, as they are out of the & nen, Who, if the existence of the upon their fairness, would erush it in a fow met Whe talk about what hi mut Hd to the past, or —bu before we knew the gentleman, we saw the artist, and promised the American public that there were those qualities in his first ineffic efforts, which would be ripened into the very best of fruit The promise of the blossom is more than equalled by the richness of the eonsummate devclopement Buchanan has now given us an Iago, a Macbeth, and an Othello, which w+ can take pl in re- will be great hereafter, or as perf ontions of character at once original, masterly, 4 } well finished, capable of standing the test | of close analysis. Let us look at his lago. He | entered upon the scene with ever: ng in bis favor —a correct costume, and with that bold and dashing | | | st, but as porso- air which convinced the auditor that he was soon to see the portrait of the character Shakspeare drew. Such a characteristic walk, in itself, was akey to the whole man. It was the grace of the panther, without the full display of the panther's fangs. No artist, probably, ever mate his fret Gaslng the warmers days play so important a part. It was unlike anything 1 for his pains, upon which elee we have soon upon the stage—a bold design, q by i thes Busha * year weak and not « contre | unflaggingly sustained to the last moment. te B aecey ‘dons mee * oe would have made the reputation of an artist, by of hig third performa, is’ 8 proof itself alone. But there were dramatic beauties be- now added toa perfect, i we deo yond thie. We saw, by turns, that lago had five | it calmly, a superior, knowledge of bi thing that war then wanting to est its ia Othello, we need not here speak. the peculiarities of his style, and such as can easily be corrected. If any one doubts che artist's skill in the business of the stege, let him weke himself sequainted » the vast original ¢ Tects introduced into Mac- fects which are nov surpassed by the «tage vf any of the great actors of this gonera- m—and more twa this, offeets in whieh not one wistake wes made. The theory and the practice went together. The designs were made to impr oss, and the impression designed was invariably the result. ‘This is the highest praise for the mechani- cel part of the art. Ot the mental quaiities wo ioight write voluminously, aad could pointout a bun- dred beauties with.n the various scenes whieh lead to the final combat and death. but we will neither attempt to aralyze, or to seleut from the memories | of ovr pleasure ond satisfaction. The personavion, asa whol commande! our admiration, and had fewer faalts of manner than the Utheilo, whi from weight of color in the arms, betray thing of exuberance of action, that, under m tuitous ciroumstances of drest, would not have been | appareat. Avother fault was the use of the right | hand, in dead repoer, upon the breast—a fault with- phases to make up his whole of villany. With | Desdemona, he was the gentleman—with Cassio, the fellow seldier—with Roderigo, the man about town—with his wife, a monster—and with Othello, the subservient, time-serving knave At only ous point—and it was admirably natural—did he ex- bibit to Othello a sense of injury. Where Othello doubts bim in the third acs, he assumed a passion of anger, and was about to retiro, as it were, in dis- pleasure. A liar, doubted, always acts in this way —and in adopting thie new style of making his first exit in the third act, Buchanan showed that he is no mere student of words, but a thorough one of nature. The subdued voice, the quiet, stealthy mode in whicn he approached his victims—the tran- sitions from motive to motive, as the various cha- racters met him, also were singularly artistical and excellent. From a large number of these, we refer | with pleasure to the scene in the fourth aot, where | he led Desdemona to the door inthe most gentle manly manner —then turned upon his wife with the poy py Pt gesture of a brutal husband, and, immediately, ®8 An avoidance of tuis error, whieh i Roderigo entered, jocularly saluted him. It was | nico, of a propensity to mutter in t ic skil ’ 3 text, are the (wo principal, and, we way ray, « masterly exhibition of artletic skill, and such oe is | fonts worthy of, Locloe, Let but thes be eradt- refreshing in these days, when evon the circum- proved and, Phones n scribed stage is circumscribed still more by the oul narrow invention of our performers, and by « want of sympathy with what is good inthe art. The soliloquies were always given, aa they shouldbe, as artist with fewer commnaud, either amo England or of the United States, the highest con- eideration fer bis talents. This is not our opinion the immediate, impromptu emanations of the brain oyiy, but that of many of our best boglsh and 0 « Ame ican artivte SS NS Oe eee The publie may desire to know something more would enmesh themall.” Every roading was mata- of the bustory of him of whom we have written. It ing ourselves in the circle of influences that can nar- | | \ principles. action, so far as relates to the character of Othello, | Atlantic. | spontaneonsly. | did much, as we have shown has been contended for by some, and denied by others, that the Waldenses maintained Baptist | But the testimonies brought forward | have been conflicting, which is accounted for by the | fact that the term Waldenses is generic, denoting not one sect ouly, but all that vast body of dissen tients which were spread over Europe for many centuries, differing from cach other in worship, | forms, and creeds; and agreeing but in one thing | —that of opposing the Church of Rome. | Amid ali the corruptions of the Roman church, it | has been affirmed (with what accuracy it is not our | present business to inquire) that the few dissenters | therefrom were generally Baptists. Still, there | must have beena vast number, about the time ofthe | z Reformation, who were not Baptists; for the quarrel | between the Puritans and Baptists, we are told, be- | gan in Holland, amongst the refugees who fled there from the civil and religious persecutions | under James the First and Charles the First; and | though they never settled the Baptist question, they ail returned deeply imbued with the principles of seligicus liberty, from their seeing the offect of these principles in the national prosperity of Hol- land. Jt is easy to perceive how the religious and political sentiments of the two bodies would pass ever here, and the same ideas be projected in the other world, as it was called on this side the But the firet origination of Baptist peculiarities inthe United States, is said to have sprung up One Roger Williams, a Presbyter of ‘he Church of England, it appears, emigrated to the colony of Massachusetts early in the seven- eenth ventury. Possessing an ardent love ot li- berty, be become in sentiment, a Puritan; and find- ing the church of the colony wielding a civil power, he broached the idea that civil governments being constituted only for secular ends, the State magis- trate had no right to interfere in religious matters, and that a church established by law, could not, as to its outward order, be a true one. He opposed the exclusiveness which confined the right of politi- cal suffrag» to church members, which compelled | attendance on public worship, and required the | payment of taxes for its support. For thus oppos- ing the established order of things as then existing amowgst the New Englanders, he was prosecuted, | tried by the General Court, convicted, and sentenced to be banished from the colony, which sentence being pronounced in the depth of winter, he was permitted to remain till spring, when he fled to the Indians. Among the children of the forest, he met with a hearty welcome, ani received a grant of lands for the purpose of founding a colony, which sc touched the secret fanaticism of his nature, that he called the new settlement Providence. Here, he was jcined by others; and in a few years, was a pasior of a Jurge church, the Governor of a flou- rivhing colony, and the President of Rhode Island, But he now professed Baptist opinions; and there be'ng no minister of that persuasion in New Eng- land, he caused himself to be baptised by one Halli- inup, a lay member of his church, and deputy Go- vernor of Khode Island; after which be in turn bap- | tised said Haltiman and ten others, and thus formed |), the first Baptist church in America, in the year 1639. An attempt was made to establish a church at Boston, but it was put down by the goverament. ‘Twenty years afterwards, there was one formed at | Cold Spring, in Pennsylvania; soon afterwards one in Philadelphia; and in the year 1762, the First Baptist Church in New York. Bat we need not trace further—sufficient to say that, since the Revo- lution, which secured eqae! rights and protection to all ccets, of whatever belief, the sent'ments of the Papticts have extensively prevailed through every | part cf the Union The doctrines known to be very generally held by the Baptists, are those of the Presbyterian church, and derived from the same catechisms and confes- sions; but as there has never been anything in the | shupe of aC oreral Arsembly or Conference, in which | the entire church could be represented, there ira great lacitude of belief, ranging fromgArmenianism up to Celvanism, high Calvanism, and what is pro- | perly calied Calvaniem run to seed. When each churcis is an independent body of iteelf, with a power of making its ownrules and regulations, and without any Synod or Presbytery to take the oversight, there can be no great uniformity. Their close communioni«w has at times drawn down upon the Ta; tiete the charge of bigotry and exclusiveness, and we think they have more than they need hare; but if they roally believe their own avowed seati- iments, it is difficuit to see how they could act other- wise. This is the peculiarity by which they are dirtinguisbed from others, and which, in fact, con- | statutes them Baptists. When we lesb en is large, concentaneous body, as they now exist trace the history of the sect from it« beginaings in Rhode Island, through all ite enlargements and accessions, up to the preseat moment, vith the organizations that have spra out of it, and others w! have been imported, of them belonging to the same great famil; we recognise an agency capable of ox- f:) vet important influence on the prinei- vulding’ of our national confederacy—an | ples a | ney Which covers the whole land, and is present cherywuere. Heing estentially democratic, ia the roper sense of the word, and not merely as Pomen of the Jefferson party, the Baptists ha tered the democratic vlem The Presbytes lready, to give shape but still there was no life in it tut the living & of independence was breathed — jute it by the united influence of its creators—the | eign people. We have shown that the outlines far ae outlines are concerned, existed al in the statute books and standards of t! seni2h Presbyterian and New England Purita but it did not all exist there. Nor did the Presby- terians do all—other agencies were at work. The intiuence of the Presbyterians was in favor of the representative system; the influence of the Baptists; though still republican, waa wholly different Yeu it was felt; for the constitution wae not the work of any one set of men—all had @ hand in it; yet some | | ing property in the hands of any religious sect, tae ES property y 5 in the United States, may very fairly be traced Bap’ , declined the honor of an alliance with the | State, it might have been supposed they saw causes | most act in a mass, not from any previous | concert; they are democratic from habit, the idea being forced upon them by the genius of their reli- | some parts of the couvtry, as mere victuns to these | | Presbyterians protested, and left the question. The more than others. We do not say did all fought, and fought nobly, t the we say contributed more, i. e. of the prin- their ecelesiustical goveruments. added something; and eame out compounded of the excellences of all, so that all were interested, and saw something of themselves in it. The Episco- palians loved royalty, and, whatever they may pre- tend, had nothing to do with our present coustitu- ‘That what the Baptists contributed was mainly the democratic element, is obvious from all their movements, and at every turning poiat of their history. It is as natural for them to be demo- cratic as it 18 for them to be at all—it is the dispo- sition in which the mind is cast; it is th» very geuius of their religious system, which is continually brought before them at every vote of their meet- ings and which stimulates their altercations. he Baptists, tomehow, bave a mortal antipathy to religious establishments, and no class of our citizens have done mere than they have to rid the sountry of those intolerable nuisanoxs—they do tested the very name. At the time of the English Reformation, while some were rejoicing at the great things attained, the Baptists demurred, and said it did not go far enough. They had felt the yoke gall, and determined to leave no means un- used for dashing to pieces the fetters and breaking the chains that were already rivette d to the colonies. The great struggle on the field of Virginia, which ended in fect emancipation, is a Gue specimen of the moral heroism of these sons of the tion, and it. shows how unremitting we exertions to obtain liberty ef conssience. midst of their struggles ¢] of the famous Patric! tion was rolling on with iw of all the reatigea of royal church; the clergy looked on as monarchy, while the Baptis:s were known to be re- pudlicans from principle, and had great interest amongst the common people. The time was gone by, when they would cheerfully have paid their tithes, if they could, even then, have obtained liberty of conscience; and, now, nothing less than a total overthrow of all ecclesiastical distinctions would satisfy their determined vehemence, and, having started the decaying edifice, every Baptist put to his shoulder to push it to irretrievable ruin, and they succeeded. ‘the revolutionary party found the sacrifice must be made, and they made it. When a bill was brought forward in 1734, ‘ estab- lishing provisions for the teachers of she Christian religion,” the Virginia Baptists were the only sect who took open stand against the measure; and in 1798, when the islature repealed all laws vest- tion, Tn the y secured the interest Henry. The political revolu- tuous turce, regardless in the State or the and established religion were inseparable Spasningee of the palians were at once deprived of their glebes, &e., and all persuasions were put upon a perfect equality. This had long been aprime object. At a time when the constitution was yet forming, the Baptists represented to Jefferson the need of secur- ing an equal influence, and religious freedom to all persuasions. Jefferson saw the practical working of the plan, and was very much pleased with it. Ho even went so far as to if he learned democracy from the Baptists. he Presbyte- rians themselves might have been suspested of a leaning the other way; and when they in existence which would prevent the imaich, and therefore they forbade the bands. But no such sus- picion can attach itzelf to the fp Ie and to them We are, in a measure, it bted for our pre- sent re! jus liberty It is a proof of their indomi- table energy and hatred of establishments, that they were so much persecuted by Episcopali: and yet remained firm to the revolutionary interest through the war. But it was a war against crowns and mitres,and they were determined to fight it out. ‘he establishment first used the sword, and the Baptists were determined she should perish by it. ‘in the questions of the age, the Baptists, forthe gous institutions. We know it is said they were once democratic almost universally, but thit now they are very much abated. But query—Has not the word democracy changed a little from its origi- nal significa:ion? and has it not changed in about the same degree as the Baptists have abated ! Their exclusiveness, their well known obstinacy as to the of the word baptize, are now common- and have, in fact, passed intoa proverb. usually accounted for by consider that this is the main point of the system—that it is their rock; and they are obliged to make @ rock of it; that if they were to give up this, the whole system would tumble to pieces by its own gravitation alone. So far we understand it. But has this ex- clusiveness no influence on the 8 of the coun- try, in a large body, covering wish its institutions the whole United States, and present at every point! Can it be possible that such a body should produce no opinions and impressions, nor furnish any gene- ral prineiples, a the masses with whom it comes in contact? To ascertain this, we have ouly ‘0 into the neighborinood of some long establish- ed tist ehurch, in the country, and we shal find that the rules of action, aud even the modes of thinking, are many of them drawn, unconsciously of course, from the religious system they are com versant with, and applied to other subjects. tendency of things was perceived by Fran! Jefferson, who, though without being profe religion themselves, tried to infuse the r principle into the national enterprise, as the: power which alone could make men st: And the Hon. Daniel Webster tells us can revolution could not have lived a but from its supposed connection with religion. Now, men , and that the whole government were placed in their hands, what should we expect? That the same exclusivences—the same jealousy of forei interference—t ame iron spikes, so te speak, would stand around the State which stand ound the church; we should expect low tariff mea sures, to enlarge the commuuivn—a disposition to natioral aggrandizement—a propensity to turn the arms of the country against every nation | where spiritual or earthly despotisms exist, | whether we have anything to do with them — or not; and in which of the great poli- tical parties of the day, do we sce these very indications! It is true, these principles, to a great extent, are neutralized by the counter elemenss of other parties; but this only shows the fine practi- | A meri- le day, Christian Kings County Aims House. VISIT OF THE SUPERVISORS, ETC., TO THE COUNTY BUILDINGS. The new Alms House for the county of Kings, being now ready for occupation, the Superintendents of the Poor for the county, of which there are five— Messrs. Rhodes and I ushmore, for the city of Brook- lyn; Mr. Ripley, for Williamsburg; Mr. Vandeveer, for Flatbush, and Mr. Stillwell, for Gravesend—in- vited the Board of Supervisors, (ex. and present,) the heads of all the various departments, and the leading county officers, to inspect that building and the adjoining ones, on Tuesday last. The call was very generally responded to, and a large party as- sembled shortly after the appointed time. The new building to which attention was more particularly called, is a plain finished brik one, comprising a main erection and two wings, the whole being 176 feet long, by 50 feet deep, and con- tains three stories and a basement, of equal alti- tude throughout. The basement on the loft of the entrance, is di- vided into a dining room for female inmates at the rear, 76 feet: long by nd in the front are cells for the restraint ‘of those whose conduct may render confinement necessary, anda room for the steam spperatus, by which the entire building is heated. basement on the right hand side con- tains a dining room for the males, of similar dimen- ns as that of the females, and in ing position—i. e. the rear. frent part are not as yet appropriated. The upper portions ofthe two wingsare intended as dormitories, and are capable of accomodating about five hun- dred persons or more. The main building is Teele devoted to the purposes of business, and the residence of the keeper and family, except the basement, in which are @ kitchen, bath, store, and visiting room, and one for the use of the physician. On the first floor is a dining room, and the board rocmsof the supervi- sors and superintendents, which latter is also used by the keeper as his office. The persons for whom this asylum has been erected are now lodged in wooden or frame buildings, termed shanties, at the rear, andtheir transmigration is intended to be ef- fected as quickly as possible, only awaiting the complet of some minor interior arrangements. e visiters all, or nearly so, proceeded to ia- t the Lunatic Asylum, which is located close to theabove establishment Of the crowded state, and general unfitness of this edifice, we have before spoken, and have but to add that there are at pro- sent crowded within its wooden walls—for it is = frame sailing 1 patients, it having been origi- nally designed for the reception of about 60; aud juently the opportunities are much abridged for administerin; captbe peculiar wants and cireum- stances of the ppily demented objects of the ebarity. In many cases two, and even three, are confined in one apartment, when it would be desira- ble to have separate ones foreach. The major part of them appear to be harmless, the number, malo or Cres se ones being very hogan = unhappy child, Duffy, about nine years anda haifa three of wich she has in her pr rent dotnicile, particularly attracts attention by utter Saleem: she is, though small of her age, @ Weil fornied child, excepting the head, which is of » most extraordinary diminutive size. Her antics are those of a totally unintellectual being, and she seems incapable of any perception beyond that of the matron’s kindness, to whom she appears much attached. Some few of the present inmates are from Queens county, there being no such asylum there; and having beenso for a long time, the super- intendents are aesakie discharge them, though their limited accommodations have compelled them to abandon the practice of receiving patients from other counties. The plans and estimaes for a now building, more commensurate with the want: of the county, are all repared, and, as a bill has lately passed the Legis- ature, authorizing the supervisors to raise,the neces- sary loan, operations will be commenced as >on as a site is fixed upon. it is in contemplation to locate it in some other situation, than in the imme- diate proximity of the Poor House. It should be observed that all the patients in this asylum are not paupers. If the views of the majority are car- ried out, the new — will equal anything of the like nature in the United States. ‘The nursery and hospital are of uniform character with the new Alms House. In the former are about two hundred children, well fed, clothed, and cared for, as their appearance bespeaks. ‘The Hospital con- tains, at present, about one hundred an fifty pa- tients, being as usual the extent of the capacity of that me ree shanties (long frame buildings attached. _ There is no pects case, or class of cases, call- ing for particular notice, the ship fever from which there were, some time ago, ing abated, and the num nificant. Throughout ail theee establishments the extreme order and cleanliness observable, and the free ven- tilation secured to every part, is well worthy of no- tice and commendation. The boards, stairs, &c., all bear unmistakeable evidence of constant care and cleaning, and induce a ready belief in tae aseu- rapee given to our reporter, that they were not in “holiday garb” for the occasion, but in their ordi- ondition. ‘iting the above, the company, to the number of upwards of fifty, sat down to a most ex- cellent and tiful dinner, prepared at the Alma and their various conveyances being in rea- returned hom parently as well sa- tisfied as if a dozen speeches had been made—a per- formance which was entirely dispensed with. ‘The Desertion an English Soldier. Extract from a ch of Senator Beuton, de- livered in Secret Session, in August, 1342, upon the ratification of the Ashburton Treaty—taken from the Cungressi nal Globe Conventions for the mutual surrender of large offenders, where dominions are coterminous, might be proper. Limited, as Mr. Jeffersoa in 1798, and they might sup of border crimes, and the preservation of order and justice; but extended as this is, to a long list of of- tences—unrestricted as it isin the case of marder— #pplying to dominions in all parts of the world, and to ships in every sea—it can be nothing but the many suffering, hav- T now being quite insig- cal working of our system of government, whieh is the wonder of the London Zimes, that mi ale 60 | discordant should work in it with as much eare as if, like the wheels of a clock, th ad been fitted beforehand, to perfect the machinery and make it strike true time. Thus it is churohes work. The Presbyterian gives the representative systew, which, lest it should run into oligarchy, is beld in ance by the constant tendencies of the demo- cratic element. Our yp sean is made for these opposites, which would destroy any other. [he little local disturbances we complain of are the ele- ments of harmony in the greater working of the Peg system. So long as things go on as they ave done, our prosperity must go oa to be uuox- | ampled; nor is it oasy to calculate the prospects of | @ country to which one continent supplies tecrit sry, and the other population. But, it may be asked, how does this church stand as to the subjects of temperance, educ: » | slavery, and others, that agitate the pubic mind? On the question of temperance she has done too much, and thereby secured too little. She has ] pushed the matter, 20 to speak, through thivk and thin, of physical,and even moral, therapeu ics, | and produced re-action in the very masses she in | tended to benefit, recommending death tu the sick man, as bas frequentiy been doue, in preference to | the wines and stimulants preseribed by his physi cians to subdue his fever and bring about his convalescence. It wrose from popular ignoranse; and, where the physician has not been positive, great numbers have died We may reckon about | one-third of those who die of chronic diseases, in sweeping and fanatical measures. Still, the odject is good, and in the case of healthy men, the bay- be eae are about the best that could be ap- plied. On the subject of education, this church has not | been very energetic. Tor a long time she appeared to appreciate it little, if at ali; but of late she is waked up to see its importance, and has now tweuty colleges, eight theological institutions, with @ goodly number of academies, for the service of her young men. It might be suppose i that a church of such extent Must take some stand on the question of slavery; and here we find discord, not division, for they were never united. The Baptist congregations are so many separate republics, each chuosing its own offi- cers, managing its own affairs, without admit- ting the existence of any superior court. Tho Northern republics are against slavery, and even any very slow process of emancipation. few churches, North would allow any slaveholding minister to officiate. With the Southern republics it is differ- ent, #0 that thor ‘here is no book concern to liti- gate about, still re ig a split, to all intents aad purposes, and their institutions go in pairs. ‘There is a publication society North, and another South ; missionary society North that refuses to send ow: holders, and another South. The clerical 0 is “E Pluritus Duo,” instead of waun, ich is @ very poor preface to achurch. Tho ~~ acted, and did nothing. ‘The questions of close and open comraunion, the division mto Calvinistic and fi ill Pawpti are generally understood. We oak this chureh that she has to Bible soci sionary unicn whieh +upports from five dred missionaries, a Southern miasion: foreign and domestic, an Ameritan Indi an Amerionn Home -Missic day Sehool Union, with 11,009 congregations, and from 7,000 to 3,000 minis teis. And it-she were to attend more to the hore population immediately wi her reach, hor ei. Giewoy would be a.ore felt than it now is { source of individual annoyance and national recrimi- nation. Besides, if we surrender to reat Britain, why not to Russia, Prussia, Austria, France, and all the countries of the world! If we give ap the Jrishinan to England, why not the Pole to Rucsia, the Italian to Austria, the German to his pringe and so on throughout the catalogue of nations Sir, the article is pestiferous one ; and as it is de- terminable upon notice, it will become the dat of the American people to elect a President who will ive the n P, and so pat aa end to its existence. If to the natural feclings of the coan- I liberty, the mossage of the Presi- ating and resomme nding this treaty to us, carefully presents this article as conforming to our feelings in ali these particulars. It is repre- sented as applicable only co bigh crimes—to border offenders, and to offences not political. In all this, | the message is disingenuous and deceptive, and cal- culated to ravish from the ignorant and thoughtless an applause to which the treaty is not entitled. Among other things, it says :— The article on the subject, in the proposed treaty, is carefully vonfiaed to such offences at all mankind agree tor gard as heinous, and destructive of the security of life and of property. In this careful and speciic enumera- hon of crimes, che object has been to exclude ali | political offences, or criminal charges arising from Wart of intestine co mmotions of trea libels, desertion from military service, and other off * of a similar character, are excluded.” In there phrases the message recommends the article to the Senate and the country; aad thing could be more failacions and dece such 4 resommendation. It coufines the to border offeuders—Canadian fugitives; yet the treaty extends it to all persons committing offences under the “ jurisdiction” of Great Britain, «term which includes all her territory throughout toe world, and every ship or fort over which her fi waves. The message coufines the surrender to hi; crimes: yet we have treaty includes crimes Which way be of low degree—low indeed'—« hare or & partriige from &® preserve—a loat of broad to sustain life—a sixpenny counterfeit note paswd— a sbed burne Lfved, without stoiking" t es—all treasous, ‘Treason, misprision cluded The treaty sho: offeaces are not esgluded; ions pro- pored by Mr. Jefferson aro not inserted; and, consequently, under the head of murder, the insurgent, the rebel, and the traitor who has shed blood, may be given wp; and so. of other of- fenees. hen once surrendered he may be tried for The fate of Jonathan Kobbins, aling. good illustration of all this. He was a r—was gully of mutiny, murder, and on the frigate Merinione—deserted to she St as dawanded by the British Mi rer, wader Jay's ssa murderer—ther, tried by a court-martial on n-of war for mutiny, murder, desertion, ent ound guilty—exeouted—and his bo And so it would be in. one offe ‘The m iven up for Would be tried for another; aad in num at igndenave of the offences for which he might be sureendered, there would be no diffisulty in reaching any viotiin that @ foreign government chose to pursue. If this article had been in force in the tine of the Irish rebellion, and Lord Edward hitegerald had esoaped to the United States, after Wov adivg, as he did, several of the myrmidons wh» ?rrested him, he might bave been demanded as @ fagitive from justice—for the assault with intent to kill; aud then ‘ried for treason, and hanged aad | quartered, and such will be the operation of the article if it continues.