1694-1778 Voltaire.

The Philadelphia Directory (Volume 1823) online

. (page 46 of 47)
Online Library1694-1778 VoltaireThe Philadelphia Directory (Volume 1823) → online text (page 46 of 47)
Font size
QR-code for this ebook

Spain, - - - 700

Portugal, - - 700

In these UNITED STATES, the hearers are said to be
9,600,000; places of worship, 8,0Q0 ; clergymen, 8,000;
and annual income, g2,557,000, e q Ua \ to 8266,000 per
million of people.

The Church of ITALY has 19,391,200 hearers, all Ro-
man Catholics; 16,170 places of worship; 20,400 clergy-
men ; with an annual income of 83,440,000, equal to
8180,000 per million of hearers.

In AUSTRIA, there are 18,918,800 hearers; 15,800
places of worship; and 19,000 clergymen, whose annual
income is 84,218,000, equal to 8222,000 per million.

SWITZERLAND numbers 1,720,000 hearers, about
two-thirds of whom are Calvinists, and one-third Catho-
lics; 1,430 places of worship; and 1700 clergymen, with
an annual income of 8386,000, equal to 8223,000 per
million of hearers.

In PRUSSIA, there are 10,536,571 hearers; 8,100 places
of worship; and 9,578 clergymen, whose annual income is
82,340,000, equal to 8223,000 per million of hearers. Of
these, there are 6,064,379 Lutherans, 4,023,518 Catholics,

.100,101 Reformed or CalvinUtic, 127,345 Jews, 21,233
^leuonites &c. §cc.

The GERMAN STATES, exclusive of Austria and
Prussia, have 1-2,763,500 hearers; 9,800 places of worship;
11,600 clt rgymen, with an annual income of §3,410,000,
equat to §266,000 per million of people.

The Kingdom of the NETHERLANDS has 5,000,000
hearers, of whom 3,500,000 are Catholics, 1,000,000 Cal-
vinists, and 500,000 of other sects. They have 3,840 places
of worship, and 4,540 clergymen, with an annual income
of §1,180,000, being at the rate of §355,000 per million,
for two millions of Dutch; and §155,000 per million, for
three millions of Flemish.

In DENMARK, the hearers amount to 1,700,000, all
Lutherans, who have 1,300 places of worship, and 1,586
clergymen, with an annual income of §528,000, at the rate
of §310,000 per million of hearers.

In SWEDEN and NORWAY, there are 3,400,000
hearers, 2,620 places of worship, and 3,100 clergymen,
whose income is §1,056,000, at the rate of §310,000 per
million of hearers.

In the RUSSIAN EMPIRE, the hearers are 42,000,000,
of whom there are of the Greek Church 34,000,000, Catho-
lics 5,500,000, and Lutherans 2,500,000; having 24,500
places of worship, and 74,270 clergymen^ whose yearly
income is §4,000;000, apportioned as follows: — 34,000,000
Greek Church, §2,240,000, at the rate of §66,600 per mil-
lion of hearers; and 8,000,000 Catholics and Lutherans,
§1,760,000, at the rate of §220,000 per million.

TURKEY contains 6,000,000 Christians of the Greek
Church, who pay at the rate of §133,000 per million, equal
to §800,000.

In SOUTH AMERICA, there are 15,000,000 hearers,
who pay at the rate of §133,000 per million, from an an-
nual income of §2,000,000.

In small Christian communities, dispersed over the
world, it is believed there are 3,000,000 hearers, who pay
at the rate of §220,000 per million, equal to §660,000.

ENGLAND and WALES have 6,000,000 hearers of
the Church establishment — there are 11,743 places of wor-
ship, and 18,000 clergymen, whose annual income is esti-
mated at §33,726,000, at this rate of §5,621,000 per mil-
lion of hearers.

In IRELAND, it is assumed that there are not more
than 400^000- heaters of the established Church? they have

740 places of worship, and 1,700 clergymen, whose annual
income is 85,772,000, at the rate of Si 4,430,000 per mil-
lion of hearers.

The people who are not hearers of the established
Church, in England and Wales, are estimated at 6,000,000,
with 8,000 places of worship, and 8,000 clergymen, who
receive annually £2,264,000, at the rate of 8377,000 per
million. In Scotland, the hearers who do not belong to
the Kirk are estimated at 500,000, with 333 places of wor*
ship, and 400 clergymen, whose yearly income is 8200,000,
at the rate of 8400*,000 per million, "in Ireland, the hear-
ers, not of the established Church, are calculated to be
6,600,000—viz. 5,500,000 Catholics, 800,000 Presbyteri-
ans, 300,000 Methodists and other sects; with 2,378 places
of worship, and 2,378 clergymen, whose annual income is
§1,173,500, equal to 8 177,000 per million of hearers.

From these and other facts, it appears, that in all the
Christian world, except Great Britain, 198,728,000 people
pay their clergy 839,303,000; while the establishment
of England. "Wales, and Ireland, with but 6,400,000 hear-
ers, costs 839,500,000.

The following is an abstract of the estimated number of
Christians in the world: —

JR. Catholics. Protestants. Greek Ch.

Tn G. Brit. & Ire'd. 5,800.000 15,200,000

Rest of the worlds 118,872,000 38,856,000 41,500,000

Total 124,672,000 54,056,000 41,500,000

Catholics, 124,672,000, pay to their clergy 827,106,000.

Protestants, 54,056,000, pay to their clergy 52,860,000.

Greek Ch. 41,500,000, pay to their clergy 3,374,000.

Total of Christians, 220,228,000, pay to their clergy
SS3,250,000, of which Great Britain and Ireland, witli
21 millions of people, pay more than one-half.

The following exhibits the expense per thousand of the
whole Christian world, — of the Catholic, — of the Protest-
ant — a nd of the Greek, Churches, respectively, for the
maintenance of their clergy:—

220,228.000 Christians, per thousand, 8 357

124,672,000 Catholics, do. 214

54,056,000 Protestants, do. ,, 1111

41.500,000 Greek Church, do. 81


Among the cases of suffering by the wreck, in 1686, ot
the vessel in which the Siamese embassy to Portugal was
embarked, few have stronger claims to pity than that of
the captain. He was a man of rank, sprung from one of
the first families in Portugal ; he was rich and honourable,
and had long commanded a ship, in which he rendered
great service to the king his master, and had given -many
marks of his valour and fidelity. The captain had carried
his only son out to India along with him — he was a youth,
possessed of every amiable quality— well instructed for
his years ; gentle, docile, and most fondly attached to his
father. The captain watched with the most intense anxi-
ety over his safety ; on the wreck of the ship, and during
the march to the Cape, he caused him to he carried by his
slaves. At length all the slaves having perished, or being
so weak that they could not drag themselves along, this
poor youth was obliged to trust to his own strength ; but
became so reduced and feeble, that, having laid him down
to rest on a rock, he was unable to rise again. His limbs
were stiff* and swollen, and he lay stretched at length, un-
able to bend a joint. The sight struck like a dagger to his
father's heart; he tried repeatedly to recover him, and by
assisting him to advance a few steps, supposed that the
numbness might be removed ; but his limbs refused to
serve him, he was only dragged along, and those whose
aid his father implored, seeing they could do no more,
frankly declared, that if they carried him, they must them-
selves perish.

The unfortunate captain was driven to despair. Lifting
his son on his shoulders, he tried to carry him ; he could
make but a single step, when he fell to the ground with his
son, who seemed more distressed with his father's grief,
than with his own sufferings. The heroic boy besought
him to leave him to die ; the sight, he said, of his father's
tears and affliction, was infinitely more severe than the
bodily pain he endured. These words, far from inducing
the captain to depart, melted him more and more, until
he at last resolved to die with his son. The youth, aston-
ished at his father's determination, and satisfied that his
persuasions were unavailing, entreated the Portuguese, in
the most impressive manner, to carry away his father.

Two priests, who were of the party, endeavoured to re-
present to the captain the sinfulness of persisting in his
resolution ; but the Portuguese were obliged, finally, to
C3 .■?

carry him away by force, after having removed his son a
little apart. So cruel, however, was the separation, that
the captain never recovered it. The violence of his grief
was unabating ; and he actually died of a broken heart, one
or two days after reaching the Cape.

Advantage of Time. — A merry but poor man being
laughed at for wearing a short cloak, said, " It will be
iong enough before I have done with it. ?>


"When your child plies you with questions, do not dis-
courage him ; for curiosity, well turned, is the mainspring
of knowledge; he will probably ask more than you have
skill to answer; if this be the case, acknowledge it honest-
ly, and do not save your own credit, by chiding or laugh-
ing at him for his impertinence ; if thje thing be above his
comprehension, or not proper to be known, or too trifling
to deserve pains, show him that calmly; if none of these
obstacles interfere, explain the matter clearly to his capa-
city, or, which is better, where it can be done, follow So-
crates' method, by leading him dexterously to find out the
proper answer for himself.— ^Tucker.

Numerous reasons render it necessary to grant rest and
recreation to children ; as, first, the care of their health,
which should be preferred to that of knowledge ; and, to
this, nothing 13 more prejudicial than too long and too con-
stant application ; for these insensibly wear and weaken
the organs, which in that age are very tender, and incapa-
ble of great exertions. And this gives me an opportunity
of advising and entreating parents not to use their children
too much to study in their early years, but to deny them-
selves the pleasure of seeing them make a figure too soon.
For, besides that such early fruits seldom come to maturi-
ty, nothing is more pernicious to the health of children,
than these untimely efforts, though their bad effects be not
immediately perceived.

If they are prejudicial to the body, they are no less dan-
gerous to the mind, which exhausts itself, and grows dull,
by a continual application: and, like the earth, stands in
aeed of alternate intervals of labour and rest, to preserve
its force and vigour.— Rolliiu

Children, who are very fond of telling stories, become
adepts in the arts of invention and exaggeration ; in which
species of falsehood they are too often encouraged, and
even applauded. Thus, the principles of veracity daily
grow weaker and weaker, habits of falsehood are acquired,
and the story-teller, who first lies only to amuse, at length
repeats the transgression whenever it may serve his turn.
Let not a blind parental partiality, then, or the pleasure of
seeing our pupils admired for their wit and invention, lead
u* to neglect our duty on this subject. Let us carefully
watch every intentional deviation from a strict veracitv,
and check the rising vanity by a severe reprehension.— Jlta-

Parents must utterly avoid all distinction of favourites
among their children ; for their partiality, if shown, it is
more than probable would greatly Injure, or even undo, a
whole family. The darling is liable to be ruined through
indulgence; the rest, through neglect and ignorance. Chil-
dren, by this unequal treatment, conceive a hatred to one
another, and often to the parents themselves, which, per-
haps, lasts as long as their lives. But, besides that this
injurious treatment debases their minds, it is productive of
many evils ; from hence proceed, not only inveterate ma-
lice, but confusion, lawsuits, and poverty; and hence, too,
proceed rash, precipitate, and disgraceful marriages ; with
many other calamities, which it would require a volume
to enumerate.

Another indispensable duty of parents to their children
is, to teach them never to dare to sport with the natural
defects of others. — But the defects of the body are not alone
the subject of our ridicule, we sport, too, with those of the
mind. Providence, for wise reasons, does not give to all
alike ; are we therefore to hold another in contempt, for
not knowing so much as ourselves ? Are we to laugh at a
man, for not knowing what he had no opportunity to learn ?
no, surely. A neglect to improve, and the abuse of, natu-
ral talents, are the only things that deserve the scourge ;
and even here, it often happens, that he who exercises the
rod, deserves it more than he who feels it — >JVelson,

It is a wise rule, but seldom sufficiently observed and
practised, to spend where discretion bids thee spend, and
to spare where discretion bids thee spare.


la one that ke- worst company in the world, r

; own : and though he be always falling out and quar-
relling with himself, yet he has not power to endure any
other conversation. His head is haunted, like a house,
with evil spirits and apparitions, that terrify and frighten
him out of himself, till he stands empty and forsaken.
His sleeps and his wakings are so much the same, that he
knows not how to distinguish them, and many times, when
he dreams, he believes he is broad awake, and sees visions.
The fumes and vapours that rise from his spleen and hy-
pocondries have so smutched and sullied his brain, (like a
room that smokes x . that his understanding is blear ev'd,
and baa do ri^ht perception of any thin^:. His soul lives
in his body, like a mole in the earth, that labours in the
dark, and casts up doubts and scruples of his own imagi-
nations to make that rugged and uneasy, that was plain
and open before. His brain is so cracked, that he fancies
himself to be glass, and is afraid that every thing he
comes near should break him in pieces. "Whatsoever makes
an impression on his imagination, works itself in like a
screw, and the more he turns and winds it, the deeper it
sticks, till it is never to be got out again. The temper of
his brain being earthy, cold, and dry, is apt to breed
worms, that sii.k so deep into it. no medicine in art or
nature is able to reach them. He leads his life as one
leads a dog in a slip, that will not follow, but is dragged
along until he is almost hanged, as he has it often under
consideration to treat himself in convenient time and place,
it he can but catch himself alone. After a long and mor-
tal feud between his inward and his outward man, they at
iength agree to meet without seconds, and decide the quar-
rel, in which the one drops, and the other slinks out of
the way, and makes his escape into some foreign world,
from whence it is never after heard of. He converses
with nothing so much as his own imagination, which, being
apt lu misrepresent things to him, makes him believe that
it is something else than it is, and that he holds intelli-
gence with spirits, that reveal whatsoever he fancies to
as the ancient rude people, that first heard their own
voices repeated by echoes in the woods, concluded it must
proceed from some invisible inhabitants of those solitary
places, which they afterwards believed to be gods, and call-
ed them Syh-ansy Ftuns, and Jhyads. He makes the in-

tirmity of his temper pass for revelations, as Mahomet diQ
by his falling sickness, and inspires himself vvitli the wind
of his own nypocondries. He laments, like Heraclitus,
the maudlin philosopher, at other men's mirth, and takes
pleasure in nothing but his own unsober sadness. His mind
is full of thoughts, but they are all empty, like a nest of
boxes. He sleeps little, but dreams much, and most when
he is waking, lie sees visions further off than a second-
sighted man [n Scotland, and dreams- upon a hard point
with admirable judgment. He is just so much worse than
a madman, as he is below him in a degree of frenzy? for,
among madmen, the most mad govern all the rest, and re?
ccive a natural obedience from their inferiors.


Some years ago a Frenchman arrived in this country,
who advertised a specific for killing bugs. All the old
women, and young ones too, who were pestered \viJi bugs,
flew to him and purchased his murdering potion.

The Frenchman filled his pockets with money, and lived
in clover. But a short time, however, had elapsed, when his
customers returned, and declared unanimously, that these
bugs were as troublesome as ever. <*It is impossible," ex-
claimed the Frenchman, " there must be some mistake*
How do you use this mixture ?" " Why we pour it in the
joints of the bedstead, and wash every part of it." " Pho,
pho, that will never do ; you must catch the bugs, and pour
it down their throats, and it cannot fail. I have tried it
a thousand times."

Several articles which I have lately read in the papers on
the subject of Grubs, have recalled to my memory the bug
killing Frenchman.

One paper recommends a strong solution of nitre, or
saltpetre, to be poured round the mound of corn, declaring
that the grub will come to the surface, and then all you
have to do is to walk over your fields and kill them ! !! If
this does not equal the Frenchman, I am mistaken.

Another recommends a solution of tobacco to be used in
the same way, and reasons that it must answer because the
grub never injures the tobacco plant ! I have seen it tried,
and it has no more effect than pouring so much water on
the mounds. They leave their holes to be sure, but return

to them again in a short time, and to conclude, the water
of boiled potatoes is declared to be infallible. Mirabile
dictu !

The interest of agriculture is the dearest of our country,
and every attempt to improve or render it more perfect is
praise-worthy. But the recommendation of such means as
have been just mentioned, are calculated todotauch injury:
experiments should be fairly made, and facts ascertained,
before the farmers, generally, should be led iato expense.
Several farmers, in my neighbourhood, have wasted their
money and time in trying the saltpetre and tobacco solu-
tions, but all to no purpose. They have thrown them aside,
in the belief that those who recommend them were either
knaves or fools.


Consumption — Completely to eradicate this disorder, I
will not positively say the following remedy is capable of
doing, but I will venture to affirm, that by a temperate mode
of living, avoiding spirituous liquors wholly, wearing flan-
nel next the skin, and taking every morning half a pint of
new milk, mixed with the expressed juice of green hoar-
hound, the complaint will not only be relieved, but the
individual shall procure to himself a length of days beyond
what the mildest fever could give room to hope for.

I am, myself, a living witness of the beneficial effects of
this agreeable, and though innocent, yet powerful applica-
tion. Four weeks' use of the hoarhound and milk relieved
the pains of my breast, gave me to breathe deep, long, and
free ; strengthened and harmonized my voice ; and restor-
ed me to a better state of health than I had enjoyed for
many years.


As our manufactures are so rapidly increasing, great
quantities of wool will be wanting. This will be encour-
agement for our farmers, to raise and keep as many sheep
as possible, inasmuch as the wool will always command a
high piice in cash.

Mr. Hammond, in the state of Ohio, one of the most
wealthy and extensive farmers, raises and keeps a numer-
ous flock of sheep, and supplies the Steubenville Manufac-

tory with wool. In a letter lately published in the Ohi.o
papers, and in those of Philadelphia also, he says, that with
100 large sheep, he makes more profit than with 100
acres of wheat, and does not give the tenth part of the
trouble. He mentions further, that he prevents the rot
getting among them by giving salt three or four times a
week. This keeps them, as well as every other domestic
animal, perfectly healthy.

In the state of New Jersey, the farmers begin to keep
\e.ry large flocks of sheep, and feed them at the distilleries,
from the same offals with which the hogs, oxen, and other
animals, are fed. As this is something new, and but lately
brought into practice, it creates some surprise. But, let
me ask, — why not feed sheep with the same provender as
other domestic animals ? Some people prefer thje milk
and butter of cows fed from distilleries.

The writer of this has had conversation with numbers of
persons, who are well acquainted with, and have often wit-
nessed, the above mode of feeding sheep, and they positive-
ly assert, that the meat has a more delicious taste, and the
wool is finer, longer, and softer, than when the sheep are
fed in the old way.

N. B. The sheep must not be penned up as hogs are ; it
will be necessary to let them range into the fields when so
inclined, and occasionally put to hay. Turnips are excellent
food for sheep.

An easy and certain cure for the Rheumatism.

Take as much Oil Skin, (silk oil cloth,) as will cover
the part, and wrapt it tight round, if the legs or arms be
affected. If the head or shoulders are the seat of the dis-
ease, have a tight cap made for the head ; or a piece stitch-
ed inside of a flannel shirt, or under garments, for tta
shoulders, or any other part of the body, will answer the
purpose. \

Lambs. — Bleeding is recommended as the best mode ot
preserving the health of lambs, in autumn, or when slight
frosts commence, — the operation is to be performed by
piercing the nostril with a pen-knife.

John Kilburn, a person well known on the turf as a list
seller, &c. being at a town in Bedfordshire, and according
to a turf phrase, quite broke down; it was in harvest time,
the week before Richmond races, near which place he was
born, and to arrive there in time, he hit on the following
expedient; — He applied to a blacksrinth of his acquaint-
ance to stamp on a padlock the words "Richmond Gaol,"
which, with the chain, was fixed to one of his legs, and he
composedly went into a corn Held to sleep. As he expect-
ed, he was soon apprehended and taken before a Magis-
trate, who, after some deliberation, ordered two constables
to guard him in a carriage to Richmond, no time being to
be lost. Kilburn saying he had not been tried, and hoping
they would not let him be till another assize. The con-
stables, on their arrival at the gaol, accosted the keeper with
— " Sir, do you know this m*i ?*' " Yes, very well : it is
Kilburn; I have known him many years. : ' " We suppose
that he has broken out of your gaol, as he has a chain and
padlock on with your mark ?" " A prisoner ! I never
heard any harm of him in my life." " Nor," says Kilburn,
" have these gentlemen, Sir. They have been so good as
to bring me out of Bedfordshire, and I will not give them
any further trouble. I have got the key of the padlock,
and I'll not trouble them to unlock it; I thank them for
their good usage." The distance he thus travelled was
about one hundred and seventy miles.

The Importance of Punctuality .
Method is the very hinge of business ; and there is no
method without Punctuality. Punctuality is important,
because it subserves the peace and good temper of a fami-
ly : the want of it not only infringes on necessary duty,
but sometimes excludes this duty. The calmness of mind
which it produces, is another advantage of Punctuality: a
disorderly man is always in a hurry: he has no time to
speak to you, because he is going elsewhere; and when he
gets there, he is too late for his business; or he must hurry
away to another before he can finish it. Punctuality gives
weight to character : " Such a man has made an appoint-
in eivt ; then I know he will keep it." And this produces
Punctuality in you ; for, like other virtues, it propagates
itself. Servants and children must be punctual, where
their leader is so. Appointments, indeed, become debts.
I owe you Punctuality, if I have made an appointment
with you; and have no right to throw away your time, if I
do my own.

The Biter Bit. — A member of one of the learned pro-
fessions was driving his jennet along the road at Tooting
in Surrey, when he overtook, a pedlar with his pack, and
inquired what he had to sell. The man produced, among
other things, a pair of cotton braces : the price, he said,
was sixpence. The gentleman paid the money; and then
said, " You have, I suppose, a license." " Yes," was the
reply, hesitatingly. " I should like to see it." After some
further delay, it was produced. " My good fellow, all's
right, T see. Now, as I do not want these tilings, you may
have them again for three-pence." The bargain was struck :
but how surprised was the. querist to find a summons to
attend the Country Magistracy sitting at Croydon. The
gentleman was convicted in the full penalty, for selling
goods on the king's highway without a hawker's license.
He is a lawyer.

A Parson's Bread. — In a storm at sea, the chaplain ask-

Online Library1694-1778 VoltaireThe Philadelphia Directory (Volume 1823) → online text (page 46 of 47)