The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1846-08-18 00:00:00

es, " Well, I've lost cows
but I never had anything that cut me like

s in hi

Among the advantages of steam-boat communication
in the United States, enumerated by the New York He-
rald, we find it stated that " you may travel from New
Orleans to St. Louis, a distance of twelve hundred miles,
for twelve &liars, meals, berths, &c., included. This
mile, with three meals a day) is, we
st travelling in the world." •
MAN.—Charles Fox was so skil-
niimuet, that, had he restricted
ht, it is said, have derived
d pounds a year from his
mes of chance, from

A GAMBLING STAT
1 n nlaver at Whist BI

user. On one occasion

pounds at a sitting,
and soon lost the
from whom he had

t and Fox

THE REAL (
Ifactory nerve

u.—Liizabeth was very delicate in her
affected to be much more sensitive
really was. One day a valiant Welsh
ger Willi errs, knelt to prefer a petit

on that r.oint

y was determined not to grant, and
compelled to refuse. Observing that
f rough untanned leather, instead of
d away with a gesture of disgust,
ms, how your boots mink !"
__ the sturdy Welshman, who
"it is my suit that stinks,
—Lives of the Queens of England, by

g him, she to
" Pooh, Will

Tut,
inderstood
got my boots

MORE LEISI7RE TO DINE
Sistants are obliged to swallow their meals

—lt is testi

as if they were in

own, that a Ehnp assistant
relish his food, the same

us. I

very c

,TYRS TO -V

ne to bring
:scion her a

ides onr meals are very social
too social ; still it is a sociality

r beautiful hair and its ornaments.
t must take a long time every morning
spille round the head so carefully; but
int the event occurred only once a week,

single social habit„you run
thole social fabric : and I am
I way in which the Americans
n with many of their social
Evils of Protracted Labour,

—As I was sitting at my win-

messaze, who

I deCoined in order to

I suggested that

n an artist visited all the damsels who required his
aid, and decorated them for the Sunday's fete. I et-
claimed in amazement, but they must surely be injured
and_displaced if they were not removed at night; but my
informant assured me they were very careful and
ty down on them, resting their heads on their
while they slept. Anything more uncomfortable I
could not conceive, and could scarcely after this informa-
tion look at them without a painful sensation. This is,
Jacked, the very triumph of vanity, to sacrifice sleep and
ease in a warm climate, to appearance 1 and when one con-
alders that every other part of the dress of these women is
slovenly, the fact is more remarkable still.—Miss Costello's
Tour to Venice.

It would have been a whimsical coincidence if this fa-
mily had anticipated Der Freischutz, by giving Coa;-
brookdale the name of " The Wolf's Glen," for the next
occupant commenced the casting of balls. It is also cu-
rious to find that the Wolf was succeeded by a Fox. In
the reign of Queen Anne and the two first Georges, the
grenadiers actually carried in their pouches the grenades
from which they derive their name ; and the chief manu-
facture of these warlike implements, and of car.non bails,
was conducted by Mr. Fox, in Coalbrookdale. Peter the
Great, who believed that grenades would be valuable aids
to his enterprises in Southern Russia, induced Mr. Fox to
emigrate. He never returned ; and no tidings of him were
ever received by his wife and family.
In the year 1707, Mr. Darby, an enterprising manufac-
turer of Bristol, took a lease of the ironworks in Coal-
brookdale, then confined to a single furnace and foundry.
Some years previously hf.• had visited Holland, which
then almost exclusively supplied Europe with cooking
utensils, and the metalic wares used in kitchens. He en-
gaged some Dutch brass-founders to return with him to
the brass-works he had established at Baptist Mills, near
Bristol, and with their aid be began to cast iron vessels
in moulds of sand. From some of the minute errors inci-
dent to experiments, the first efforts failed ; but fortu-
nately a young shepherd boy from Wales, who had come
to Bristol with the trifling earnings he had saved, for
the purpose of learning some trade, witnessed the failure
of the experiment, and thought that he could devise a
remedy. Mr. Darby encouraged him to trial, and it per-
fectly succeeded. The lad refused many advantageous
offers to reveal the secret ; he accompanied Mr. Darby to
the dale; a patent was obtained, and the manufacture of
kitchen utensils commenced on a very large scale. But
for many years the utmost precaution was taken to keep
the process a secret, and even the keyholes were stopped
whenever a casting was to be made.

in 1717 Mr. Darby died, leaving his only son six years
of age. The boy grew up amid maiay difficulties and per-
plexities, which severely taxed his powers and his perse-
verance, but which gave him a course of discipline and
mental training of the utmost value in his future life.
Having obtained possession of the ironworks, be greatly
extended and improved them—he laid down the first rail-
road for coal waggons ever known in England, and, hav-
ing proved its efficacy, he connected by rail the furnaces
at the top of the chile with the foundry in the centre, and
continued the line to the stores and wharf on the Severn,
whence the products of Coalbrookdale still continue to be
sent down the river in lighters, for export to their several
places of destination.
The same enterprising gentleman made the first experi-
ment in testing the efficacy of iron for bridge building.
The first iron bridge ever erected in England was made
under his direction, over the Severn, below Medeley. So
well chosen *as the positiori, tbat'a thriving market-town
sprung up in the neighbourhood, and now bears the name
of Ironbridge.
The products of the Coalbrookdale works unconnected
with art may be very briefly noticed. The chief, of course,
is bar iron, of every variety of gauge, of which a vast
quantity is always kept in store. High in importance we
may rank the agricultural implements, on which the pre-
sent Mr. Darby has bestowed the most unwearied and
laudable attention.
The hollow ware which first conferred celebrity on
Coalbrookdale is still produced in very large quantities.
In addition to culinary utensils, brewing vessels, sugar-
pans, &c., there are columns, beams, and pipes of every
kind, and among them we were interested in observing
the casting of pipes for the atmospheric railway, though
we cannot avoid entertaining anxious doubts of the suc-
cess of the success of this very ingenious but rather costly
experiment. We were also glad to see some bridge cast-
ings; and it was curious to find, on comparing the latter
models with the drawings made for the first iron bridge,
that the original inventor had left little to be added by his
successors.

It is not more than twelve years since ornamental cast-
ings were first attempted in Coalbrookdale. Iron had
been rejected from the reach of ornament on high autho-
rity, and declared incapable of appearing within the reach
of plastic art, eve❑ by Sir Francis Chantrey. After
having examined the mechanical difficulties to be over-
come in making a perfect cast, we are not surprised
at the incredulity of the eminent sculptor. The moulds
must be made of a kind of sand, having sufficient
tenacity to retain the most delicate lines, and, at the
same time, a texture sufficiently loose to admit the escape
of the gasses very freely given out by the molten metal
when poured into the mould. Now these are conditions
not very easy of fulfilment, and when the first iron cast-
ings were taken at Berlin, the operatives having used
too tenacious a sand, in nine cases out of ten produced
a pitted surface from the small air-bubbles for which
the texture of the sand afforded no escape. Should
such an accident occur with a softer metal, such as brass
or bronze, any defect in the cast may be remedied by the
chaser ; but the chaser's tools will not touch iron ; the
cast once made remains—no blemish in the casting can be
removed—no disturbance of the proportions can be altered.
An iron casting is, therefore, a more wondrous work of
mechanical art than a cast of brass or bronze; there are
more difficulties to be overcome in the preparation, there
is more nicety in the process, and there are no earthly
means of changing the result. But under all these disad-
vantages the company at Coalbrookdale has produced cast-
ings of iron which challenge competition with the most
perfect bronzes.—Ari-Union.

the serpent, a lon

pipe of leather in convulsions

. .
A quack recently offering remedies for cutaneous dis-
eases, said they would cure even the eruptions of Mount

-
SUPPLY OF WATER TO ANCIENT ROME AND LONDON.
—A correspondent of the Mechanic's Magazine has the
following speculations on the relative supplies of that im-
portant agent of health and comfort—water, to modern
London and ancient Rome :—" The probable supply to
the 1,000,000 inhabitants of which Rome could at one
time boast, amounted to 50,000,000 cubic feet, being equal
to about 50 cubic feet for each individual. This is proba-
bly 20 times the quantity which London now receives for
each of its inhabitants—a fact which goes faro justify the
application of the disgraceful term ' bathless' to this,
the largest, the most opulent, and the most powerful city
in the world. How miserably insignificant do our water-
works appear, and how trifling the supply they furnish to
this mighty city of more than 2,000,000, when contrasted
with the immense flood of pure water poured into old
Rome by her gigantic aqueducts ! And how discreditable
the difference between the two capitals, when we reflect
on the well known fact, that, through the happy constitu-
tion of the strata on which London stands, she has at her
command—requiring, as it were, but the smiting of the
rock to make them gush forth—boundless supplies of the
purest possible water !"
THE PRESENT SEASON.—The season is an extraordi-
nary one. The heat—the amount of continuous sunshine
—has been far beyond the average of our summers. This
heat brings on, as a natural consequence, violent tempests,
and explosions of thunder and lightning such as are sel-
dom witnessed in this country. All the while, the crops
are advancing beautifully—first, by the heat which happily
succeeded the profuse rains of last year and the early
spring of this; and then, by the passing rains attending
the summer storms. Here and there, trees are shivered,
cattle killed, stacks set on fire, men struck dead ; and
some people are trembling at the unusual number of acci-
dents from this cause. But let them look at the amount
of life and plenty which is maturing by the means which
inflict this isolated death or loss. It is a conspicuous in-
stance of the ordinary course of Providence—this large
and silent growth of immeasurable good, attended by
startling tokens which may keep our minds awake and
vigilant. A multitude of human lives may be said to be
growing in the fruitful fields, while only a handful here
and there is cut off. Plenty is showering down into the
nation's lap, while only a handful here and there is des-
troyed. Such is the proportion of God's gifts and men's
privations—and who will say that the disasters themselves
have not a surpassing value as keeping men's eyes open
to the dealings of God with the life of man ?—/Iliss Mar-
tineau, in the People's Journal.

PAGANINI AND MOTHER.—A singular tale appeared in
the papers, stating that Paganini was a violin-maker,
living in one of the narrow streets of Milan. He kept a
little shop, with his violins hanging in his window, and
was so good-looking that the lasses of Milan used to pass
down the street to have a look at the handsome fiddle-
maker. One day a gentleman called with a violin to be
repaired, and accidentally left a book behind him on the
transmigration of souls, a subject, of all others, that in-
terested Paganini. He read it with avidity. In a small
room, at the back of his shop, lay his aged and accom-
plished mother on her deathbed. Paganini had just finished
a fine violin, and, in the full persuasion of the transmigra-
tion of souls, be placed a leathern tube over the mouth of
his mother, at the instant of her departure. and received
her last breath at the S holes of the fiddle. This was his
magical violin, with which he set out upon his travels.
When performing in the Opera-house, and imitating the
tones of the voice, in a piece which he called " The
Witches under the Walnut Trees," a French valet was
thrown into a state of frenzy. He waited upon Paganini
the next morning, and told him that when young he had
been a lover of his mother, and that, with inexpressible
delight, while listening to the performance last night, he
recognised her voice in the tones of his violin. I have
preserved this ridiculous tale, as it may tend to show the
extent of the sensation created by this extraordinary man.
on his arrival here, when public writers could think it
worth their while to invent such stories.—Gardiner'B
Music and Friend's.
THE HOODED CROW.—This species is not a constant
resident with us, but arrives in the autumn, and departs
in spring : we might thus call it the winter crow. These
birds are supposed to come from Norway or Sweden to
the south of England, but abound in the northern and
western isles of Scotland throughout the year, and were
formerly so numerous in those parts that regulations were
established and money paid for their destruction. Four
or five hundred may sometimes be seen together on these
islands, and many may also be found on the Scotch Low-
lands. The term hooded is applied to this crow from the
grey plumage which covers the upper part of the body
like a mantle or hood, from which it is called hoody in
the Orkneys, and in some parts the grey-backed crow, or
dun crow. The old name was Royston crow, as it was
supposed to be peculiar to the district round that place.
Some have erroneously ascribed the grey coating of the
bird to age, and supposed it to be an old carrion crow ;
this guess has now departed, with a host of kindred fan-
cies, which formerly flitted to and fro over the field of na-
tural history. The ignorant among the peasantry may
still persist in giving the coat of grey to the ancient car-
rion crow. But though a distinct species, the hooded
crow much resembles the carrion in its habits, feeding
upon eggs and young poultry, to whin it not unfrequently
adds fish, especially muscles and limpets. These last
sometimes destroy the crow instead of being themselves
destroyed, as when the bird seizes the fish the latter drags
the crow under water ; a result not in the least surprising
when the great tugging force of some limpets is remem-
bered; which often amounts to more than a weight of
twenty pounds. Some naturalists have observed a pecu-
liar note uttered by the hooded crow in the quiet of the
early morning, a plaintive sound in an ascending minor
third, which may be called the bird's morning song.—
Sharpe's London Magazine.
MISS SUSAN CUSHMAN'S MARRIAGE.—At that period
of Miss Cushman's theatrical life, in which misfortune
seemed to have overwhelmed her, a gentleman of Boston,
in middle life, and a friend of the family, came forward
and offered to take her sister Susan, then very young, en-
tirely under his care, complete her education, and, if the
consent of her mother could be obtained, adopt her as his
daughter. Susan was delicate in health, lovely in person,
and timid in character ; this offer, therefore, of a perma-
nent and comfortable home was not to be rejected. She
was removed from the harassing cares which pressed on
her sister, and placed in the house of her half-brother,
where she lived in ease and comfort, no pains being spared
to render her education complete. The arrangement
seemed altogether a most satisfactory one, and no senti-
ment but that of gratitude was felt by all towards the man
who had so generously shown himself the friend of all.
When Susan, however, had just turned fourteen, he was
taken dan2erously ill of brain fever, and lay at the point
of death. At this moment he summoned her half-brother,
and besought, as the prayer of a dying man, that in order
to give Susan Cushman a legal claim to his property,
which was believed to be very considerable, she would
consent to marry him. The idea was a startling one;
but he had been so long her real benefactor, and now
meant so sincerely to secure independence to her at his
death, when otherwise she must be unprovided for, that
the idea was not to be rejected. Her brother-in-law con-
sented ; and, after some little delay, arrangements were
made for the marriage. In the meantime, however, the
mother, to whom this singular intelligence was sent, hur-
ried to Boston with the firm determination, from some

nameless presentiment of es il in her own mind, utterly, to

forbid the marriage. In Susan's mind, too, the greatest
unwillingness existed, and she only needed her mother's
countenance resolutely to refuse her consent. The

mother came ; but the relatives, who saw nothing but the
utmost advantage to the young lady in an alliance which,
even supposing the husband lived, promised wealth and
station, over-ruled even the mother's unwillingness. This
ill-starred marriage took place, and the husband recovered.
Before the young wife however was fifteen, she had occa-
sion to deplore not having listened to those presentiments
of evil which, like the whisperings of guardian angels,
might have saved her from bitter woe. tier husband one
day informed her that he was going to New York on busi-
ness ; scarcely, however, was he gone, when the whole
bubble of his wealth and prosperity burst. Hungry cre-
ditors rushed in from all sides, and it was then found to
be too true that he had left Boston to avoid the personal
annoyance which must accrue on the state of his affairs
being made public. For his wife, however, young and
inexperienced as she was, and to whom this came as the
sudden crash of an earthquake, he had no such pity. She
was left to bear it all. Nothing could be more appalling
and distressing than her present state. She had married
him in the first instance not from affection, but from a
sense of gratitude and duty to a kind devoted friend, who
as a dying request asked but her hand to provide for her
through life. When he lived, however, and •thus when
the responsibility and duty of a wife was suddenly thrust
upon her, she, like Jenny in the ballad of " Old Robin
Gray," had literally vowed with herself to be a good wife
to him who had been so kind, and who she sincerely be-
lieved, had meant so kindly by her. Now, however, and
this was perhaps the saddest part of this sad knowledge,
his character appeared in an entirely new aspect ; be was
a selfish, cruel, and false man. Her heart almost broke
under this dreadful discovery. A year or two, during
which no better hope revealed itself, went on, apd she
was a mother. Life was dark all around her, and full of
crushing realities, among which may be mentioned the
loss of her husband's reason. No history of a life can be
sadder tban hers ; yet through all she was blameless, and
to the utmost endeavoured to fulfil her duty. * *
* During her second season in Philadelphia, Mrs.
Merriman met with some of her husband's relations, who
treated her with the utmost kindness, and who, resenting
his base conduct to her, advised her to obtain a divorce,
for which the most abundant reasons existed. At their
own charge they commenced the necessary legal proceed-
ings. The divorce was obtained, and in less than a year
afterwards the news of his death reached them from the
far West. Mary Howitt, in Use People's Journal.