IF It Trtme the LONDON GAZETTE, 7'uesday, Scpt. 9. —AO" — BANKRUPTCY SUPERSEDED. 'STIE/J. Curricrs Hall-court, London-wall, factor. BA NKRUI"TS. MOTELS T. Nottingham. hosier, Sept. 23, 21, Oct. 21, at Notting ham. Atts. Mu en. Iluni and Co. Temple. Br.oowett . n J. Commercial-road, plumber, Sept. 16, 21, Oct. 21. `bat Guildhall. Att. Mr. Hutchinson, Crown-court, 'Threadneedle- street u u G. Altlernianburv, Cheesentontrer, Sept 23, and Oct. 21, at Guildhall. Att. Mr. Hartley, New Bridge-street, Blacktriars. IRWIN T. Chatham, merchant. Sept. 15, tni, Oct. 21, at Guildhall. Att. Mr. Spencer, Nlantield-place, fit. George's-fields. DIVIDENDS. 81. Homsey, York, wine merchant. Oct. 27. W.. Jones, (xwestrv, Salop, tanner. Sept. 30. S. G. Burridge, Butt-lane, Depttiml, victualler, Nov. 8. J. Swann. Birmingham, grocer, Oct. 4. A. Z. 1). Cuselji, Lancaster, merchant, Oct. 4. V. C. Millers, Liverpool, milliners, Oct. 1. M. Noble, Battersea, engine-nianufactuter, Sept. 30.. W. Ball, Newcastle-upon-tyne, vintner, Oct. W. Eyler, Cirencestri, cabinet-maker, Sept. 3n. T. Brown, Chorley, Lancaster, cotton-manufacturer, Oct."). W. Brown, and A. Wither, Bristol. iron-nien•hants, Oct. 8. J. George, Munmouth, tinilitr-merchant, Oat. 4. T. Newtsonlie, Rowbridge, Gloucester, clothier, Nov. 15. It. Wilkinson, G. Snowden, J. E. Luntlek, Stockton, Durham, bankers, Oct. 4. CERTIFICATES, SErT. 27. It. Preston, Lanrastar, boot-maker—A. Muir, Leeds, York, linen-paper—C. S. Smith, Clare-street, St. Clement• Danes, sales -4111.41. REVIEW OF LITERATURE. PARIS, IN 1815.-A POEM. This is .a -production eminently calculated to wear. *he public from that false poetic taste which has pre wailed of late, and to 'which almost every living poet (we mast distinctly except Crabb,) has given himselt up, fully satisfied that it is the only true style, and that Pope, and the disciples of his school were all ig norant of the true principles of versification.! In the Poem of" Paris," there is a nervous energy of language, a soundness of political principle, and, above all, a humble, yet fervent piety, that refreshes the heart after all the gloomy atheistical trash that has issued from the Bards of what is called the modern The .author commences by describing his approach to Paris, and the appearance of the city from the top of Mont Martre. Entering the city, he paints the diffe rent objects as 'they arise, with a bold and masterly hand ; and the fearful recollections which. are called up by the sight of the Abbaye, Nuke Dame, the Tempk, Tuileries, &e. are given with a heart-rending faithful ness. We select the following stanzas, not because they are in a higher strain of.poetry than the rest, but because they breathe a spirit of true British feeling— as exiiltation in his country's glory, in which, we trust, our readers will sympathise. On approaching Mont Martre, the British Army was marching out to ti p era& Sawn npon Mont Martre'! O'er the plain, In flake and spire, the sunbeam plunges deep, Bringing out shape, and shade, and summer stain: Like a retiring host the blue mists sweep. Looms on the farthest right Valerien's steep, Crowa'd with its convent kindling in the day, And owtftly sparkling from their bowery sleep, Like matin stars, around th' horizon play War. village vaues, td domes, and cabtle.turrets gray. 4 Tis a richeceneti and yet the richest•eliarna That e'er cloth'd earth in beauty,livrs isot here. Winds no green fence around the mailed farm; ltio blossom'd hawthorn bliisids the cottage dear. The land.is•bright, and yet to thine how drear, Unrivall'dEngland!—Well the thotglit may pine For those sweet fields where, each a little sphere, Iln shaded,aitered fruitfulness cloth shine, .mud theleart higher brats that says," This spot is mine." •VI. t. Clout! How stately from the green hill's side hboots.ap thy:Parian pile! His transient hold, Who wore the iron crown , of regicide! lie treads its halls no more—his hour.is told. Tkescircle widens ! Sevres bright and cold Peeps out in vestal beauty from her throne, 4par'd fur Minetra's sake, when round her rolfil From yon high brow tle Invaders fiery zone, eiie►iitless, as can tell thy faded tuw'rs, Meadon! VII. A trnmpet !—et the sound Mont Martree spread With martial crowds, a glittering, crimson tide, Pouring incessant from its sunbught head. Part, that in splendour deepen down its side, In square, and line, and column wheeling wide To many a solemn touch of harmony. :Part to the far champaign that clangiag ride, Like the long flashes of the summer sky, Witte fresh-planted eagles darting from their eery high. VIII. 'The British bands! A power is in thesound, It speaks of freedom, valour, virtue nigh; It calls upEnghtud upon foreign ground! Far be from as the false philosophy 'Mat sswas'tsot-country's nobly-partial het The thoughts that like a second nature some In distance and in death to fix the eye On the heart's classic soil;—by temple, tomb, 13y all love's-names endeared,—by all in one, our Home. IX. War has its mighty moments :—Heart of Mae! 'Here all thy makes vigour for a thrill Treader than through these gallant bosoms ran Whetrfirst iheirstandards waved ai,ove that hill? When first they strove their downward gaze to fiU Witi►the full grandeur of their glorious prize— Paris ! the name that from their cradle still Stung them in dreams ; now, glittering in theircy#44 • New woo- woo by the Victory of Victories! THE NATIONAL REGISTER X. For this had bled their battle round the worrd; For this they round the world had come to war: Some, with the shatter'', ensign that usafuti'd Its lion emblems to-the Orient star ; And some, the blue Atlantic stemming far; And some, a laatchlims band, grout swarthy Spain— Wilt well-worn steel, and breaos of many a scat ; And all their plains to their last conquering plain Were spout, and all_their trophies to 116 trophy t ain. NI. And there are symbols romitlthe Mount that show What terror on the boastful land has been ; Glares from its embrasures the iron tow, NVith scarp and fosse is cut the tender green, The Movies watches down the spiked ravine, steel-barbed frize, the pyramid of ball, Start on the eye from cut and vintage-si teen ; And from the summit tower the flagstaff tall Lifts England's bailie:lA cross—ta initiphant over all! • ' To those who may, likethe writer, incline to think that a more glorious age is oboist to rise upon the world, and that 1 ,4'40:f10p was the thistelerstorni which was to give the Last clearing to the air before that perfect vision, it assumes a loftier character than its mortal triumph. It seems to bear the lectures via grand, • dilate interposition of Superior Power. The final overthrow of the French empire, which Was atheistic, jacobin ' and revolutionary to its latest hour; and the titter disgrace of Napoleon, the consectatetl spirit of the revolution, were at least the results of the battle of Wa terloo. They may appear to have been its providential ob jects. Had human judgments been previously cunsulted they would probably have drawn a different plan of the bat. tle. The Prussians would have at once joined the British, and swept tie enemy before them; or the British would have been in force enough to have driven in the French early in the day ; or Napoleon would have fallen or been taken pri soner. But the battle was not to be so fought, to be most fatal to the atheistic power. If the french had been beaten en the broad day, they might have rallied, or retired before superiority of force, or in the last event, been matte prisoners iu masses. But the conflict held on, bloody and disastrous, till the moment when they could neither escape nor conquer. Retreating an hour before nightfall, they might have been saved ; fightiug an• hour after it, they might have had the night for retreat. But they broke on the edge of darkness. The Prnssians came up, retarded daring the day, to be on fatigued by battle, and fresh fur pursuit. The night was made for remediless slaughter. " Thou moan, in the valley A jalon !" The distribution of the triumph was jtalicial. Eng land had seen in France only an envenomed enemy, Prussia had felt in her a reruorsekss oppressor; England had sitf fered no serious infliction, Prussia had been steeped to the lips in suffering; and to England, oat this memorable day, was given the Geonv, and to Prussia the Reveng e. ' if Napoleon had been killed or wounded, or made pri soner, or borne from the field in the backward rushing of his army, theremight have been some reserve of fame for him. — But a stronger will deterutiued that he should be saved for immortal and cureless shame; that lee should be seen a cow aid, and ready fugitive; that no question should be left to the world of his abjectness of' soul, and that he sl Id be re served to be she'll' as a muster to 211 English rabble, and yet survive! • If the French army, the authors of so much misery to Eu rope, were to have bern finally punished, it was done by the battle of Waterloo. I'or the first time since the accession of Napoleon, their forec WAS exclusively French ; and it was trampled like a mire of blood. There has been no instance for these thousand years of such total destruction of an ar my. The flower of France, and - the leading strength of the rebellion, WAS the .Imperial Guard. It was reserved for the last and most complete sac' thee of the day.' AGRICULTURE, MANUFACTURES, &c. The late glorious change in the weather has created a scene of industrious bustle throughout this country, and the land scape in all directions presents a continued view of moving industry in every field, the humble gleaner, and the hardy la bourer being alike cheerfully employed in gathering the abundant produce of the laud, beneath the smiling canopy of a propitious sky. For this important change, the warmest gratitude of man is due to that Being— " Who pours abundance o'er the Rowing fields." (lIEREFORD.JOURNAL.) Since our last publication, the weather has been as pro pitious as the warmest filen(' of his country could desire, and reaping, mowing, and carrying to the garner, have been the continued and cheering employments of the agriculturists through the whole of this fertile dist►ict. With the exception of late sown and cold lands, there will not, in all probability, be more than a very trifling portion of the crone: in Stafford shire and the adjacent parts of 'England and North Wales standing at the close of the current week. The produce of the present harvest is tine in quality, and exceedingly abun dant. Samples of beautiful new wheat were exhibited in our market ON Saturday.—(SALOPlAN JOURNAL.) There was a greater supply of grain at Egreitionfinarket, on Saturday last, than has been known at any.former period, particularly new barley, which sold at a very reduced price. A large quantity remained unsoId.—CLAISERLAND.PACKET.) WORCESTER SEPT. s.—The sudden change in the , weather bas had so beneficial an influence upon the Hop plantation, both here and in Kent, that the duty, which a week ago was as low as 70,0001. has risen to 75, 79, and 80,0001. and will uo doubt be higher, if the present weather continues. About 10 o'clock Wednesday, morning, two boys. brothers, were playing on the bank of the Export Dock, Poplar, when the young est. about nine years of age, by some accident fell into the water. The alarm being given, the father who worked in the place, came in a state of the greatest distraction. and in spite of all efferts to prevent Liter jumped into the Dock, which is 30 feet deep,. in hopes of saving his son. He continued for some time under the water, and every person present expected that both would have bix.n. drowned. At length he arose 'without effecting his purpose of sharing the same fate as his child. The body of the boy being dragged for, it was hooked up in ten minutes. The joy of the father cannot be de scribed, but soon.converted into the most frantic grief, when he found that helves past recovery. int e NOM ENON.—On Monday evening, about eight o'oloci , a ball of Err WAN seen front Rid to RIUVe iu• front South to West. It appeared of very eo...ule•able sue, and seemed horning at it sent fi rib sparkles which issaed front the top. It moved slowly, and after stooping in it midway career, it re•aseeutlel giadualiy, and at appeatetletnlong We clOusts. t4lirr. is. SUMMER ASSIZES. LANCASTER, wEBSEsMAY, SEPTEMBER B. T. Armstrong WB3 found guilty of wilfully setting fire to cottommill in his possession at Manchester. called MeUock Mill, with intent to defraud the Norw ich Union and Plitenix Fire Offices. At the cad of this case, the Counsel for the pto secution requested that the Judge nook' allow the prosecu tors their expeuces ; to which his Lordship replied, " No, indeed ; your clients (the Insurance Companies) are much richer than the County." SEPTEMBER 4. Jahn Nuttall, aged 20, was charged with the murder of Aun it bite, at N eweliii reit, on the evrel day of June last. Mr. Rains rose to address the Jury on the charge. The Judge.—ltas the priswier any counsel Prisoner.—No. I hope, my Lord, you will lie so kind as to be comisel for me. The J endeavour to see Justice done to you. Mr. Bailie.— Mr. Williams is so kind as to promise to lie culineel for the prisoner while he Call remain in this Court. He them proceeded iu an accoitia of the enormity of the crime. He &Misled the laxity of morals, especially in the inierconrse of the SOWS, that prevailed in the district of Rossington, where this crime was c • al. Parents suf feted their children to associate with others of a different sex at all hours of the night, and the natural consequence of this shameful laxity was such as threw dishonour on the children, and disgrace on the parents. The deceased was !Wind with her head in a well, and the marks mfaingers deeply impressed round her 'leek. She was then seven months gone with child to the prisoner. It was on the Sunday morning, and she had expected the banns of marriage with the prisoner to be proclaimed that day. Alice and Martha White deposed that the prisoner was ac • cnstomed to visit Ann White ; that he came on the night of the murder, and that she was found dead in the well at four in the morning. The next witnesses were John Hayworth, and Mr. Lees, a surgeon, whose evidence related principally to the state of the body of the deceased. James Aslibrook.—l live at a distance of e or 300 wards from the prisoner. I have knots ii hint for I t years. o n the Friday, before Ann White's death, he Came down to our house ; we were sitting with some others outside of the house. It was a very tine night. After they went away, one by one, he and I went into a corner of the field : lie said " I ain going to carry some stones for James Lord for Is. the rood, bin I'll not take them, as I dare say I'll not be long to this country, so you can have them." At the saint• time we had some con versation about Ann White. I said if 1 were lie, I would be married to her lie said lie thought he would, and eras eme es. and said I must lend the rest and go to church on Sunday morning and put up the askings. On Sunday morning lie came to our house, there were several others out of doors. was iii the house getting my breakfast. After breakfast I joined the company. The prisoner was with them. 1 went to look at a cow of my uncle's ; the prisoner went with me. from 1 - he prisoner After we went a piece he said, have you heard any news ? I said about what? He said about her : understood. Ann White). We met Richard Nnttall, anal John Nuttall, Richard said " Thou haat done with Ann While maw." Biiiiyfiod i l ier . said," Nay, I think not yet." He seenstil down in die heart and low spirited. I never saw hint so before. We returned, and found Laurence White's wife coming I said," Let us go and meet her, and see what she says about this job." Heeaid, " I dont care if we do." I asked - her if she bad been to Sunnsrfield. I asked, " How are things there?" She said, " she is dead, that is all I can say." µ.e went towards Haverthills. I said, " I must go home now." He said, " Nay, come with me till I get my breakthst." went. I said, "'there's three lasses come from Sunnylield, let us meet skein, and see what the.y'lleay." He said, " Nay thou mayest go it' you like." I went away. They timed away. I went to hint ; lie was at his father's barn-end. We saw Ann Mittell coining from Sunnytield. He refused to go awl meet her, and desired me to-go, and to tell hint what she said. I went to our house. He came to inc and said, between II and.l2, "Suppose I have killed her, what inay'n I be-done at ?" I *midi" thou morn be hanged." He said. " Suppose I have not, what will be done then r" I said, " .Why, they'll have you up on suspicion." We went to our bootie both to , gether. At Clifton (where tny father's is) the company were I talking of Ann White's death. 'On the 2nd or 3rd of April I was ditching, and the prisoner with me. I asked him if hie was going to Boceup Fair. He said," Nay, I must be saving some money." I said, "What are you lads doing with these lasses at Sunnyfield ?" (meaning Ann and Betty White). He said," Have you any money ?" " Yes" Wilt lend me some ?" " Yes, what areto do withit ?" "'There is suck a thing as causing a child .to be born?" " I don't know." his fist and .struek the ground, and said, "I'll be d---d if I don't kill-her then." Cross examined by Mr. Williams.—He was taken tip at It o'clock on Sunday. He might have run away before thatif he had a mind. Oilier witnesses gaveevidcnce to the same effect. John Knowles (a prisoner, not yet tried, upon a charge of felony). The prisoner was here two days before use. I was in the same yard. I had heard nothing of this murder. I saidatothing to him, that it would be better for him to confess. I think .it right to confess, lint I said nothing of that to him. He said. he was charged with the murder of Aim 'White, his sweetheart. He said her father had murdered .her himself. " I wan coining down from a in ighbour's house, end aaw the father carrying her under his arm; she said, 'You devil," and her father flung her into the well. ' I went home and went to bed. Next morning my father told .me she was dead," Next morning.lie asked use to go into Ilse said, and said, " Jol n, I am very niicasy,•' and • said, that night he: had come from his companion's hostile ' and went an the back window and ea p.al at it, and AnoWhite came out into the.hatai fold: tioliods e add hear her, here father and Atwitter were 'too far .4 4. Is. sr lire: lie began so say to her that some of his come panions bad said e child was not his ; ibey.had some worth, about it. flhe asked I • •f he would marryher. He told her he. bad given money to one of Ids companions to have the asking. put up. They haul then some. words, he beat her, and knocked her down w th souse :weapon, which he did not know. -He wits:n such a ragealtet his passion destroyed her. He throttled let till she was dead, wad then took :.er up and flung her into the well, that she might- be safe, people think at -is. .uad drowned herself. H. then went twine, and to 1.1 $1 ; 41141 his seLjer came. well morning, and told bias • e WAS dead or drowned, anus 'wished him tego.and see het; the prisoner said& was stupid, -and slid. ne go ; .if he bad they would cet•aospeet him. i told this to the clergyman next day, Itvid Mr. HiggiGimmediately of it.