indeed it were from bad to worse by fatigue.  Another friend, a physician at Sheffield, told me that one of the first times (perhaps he may have said, the first) that a coach started for London, he was a passenger.  Without setting out unreasonably early in the morning, or travelling late at night they made such progress, that the first night they lay at Nottingham, and the second at Market Harborough.  The third morning they were up early, and off at five o’clock; and by a long pull and a strong pull through a long day, they were in time to hear Bow Church clock strike eleven or twelve (I forget which) as they passed through Cheapside.  In fact such things have always seemed to me to be worth noting, for you never can tell to what extent, or even in what direction, they may throw some little ray of light on an obscure point of history.  On this principle I thought it worth while to copy an original bill which lately fell into my hands.  Many such have been reprinted, but I am not aware that this one has; and as what is wanted is a series, every little may help.  It is as follows:—­

“York Four Dayes

“Stage-Coach

“Begins on Monday the 18 of March 1678.

“All that are desirous to pass from London to York, or return from York to London or any other Place on that Road; Let them Repair to the Black Swan in Holborn in London and the Black Swan in Cony-Street in York.

“At both which places they may be received in a Stage-Coach every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, which performs the whole journey in Four days (if God permit) and sets forth by Six in the Morning.

“And returns from York to Doncaster in a Forenoon, to Newark in a day and a half, to Stamford in Two days, and from Stamford to London in Two days more.

/ Henry Moulen
“Performed by < Margaret Gardner
\ Francis Gardner.”

But I cannot deny that, while I have listened to, and rejoiced in, these stories, I have had some doubt whether full justice has been done to the other side of the question.  I have always felt as if I had a sort of guilty knowledge of one contradictory fact, which I learned between twenty and thirty years ago, and which no one whom I have yet met with has been able to explain.  For this reason I am desirous to lay it before you and your readers.

Just one hundred years ago—­that is to say, on Sunday, the 10th of August, 1749—­two German travellers landed at Harwich.  The principal one was Stephen Schultz, who travelled for twenty years through various parts of Europe, Asia, and Africa, in the service of the Callenberg Institution at Halle, of which he was afterwards Director, being at the same time Pastor of St. Ulrich’s Church in that city, where his picture is (or was about twenty years ago) to be seen affixed to the great pillar next the organ.  It represents him as an elderly divine in a black cap, and with a grave and prediger-like aspect; but there is another likeness of him—­an