“He undertook to ride five several times betwixt London and Yorke, in sixe dayes, to be taken in one weeke, between Monday morning and Saturday following.  He began his journey upon Monday, being the 29th of May, betwixt two and three of the clock in the morning, forthe of St. Martin’s, neere to Aldersgate, within the city of London, and came into Yorke the same day, between the hours of 5 and 6 in the afternoon, where he rested that night.  The next morning, being Tuesday, about 3 of the clock he tooke his journey forthe of Yorke, and came to lodgings in St. Martins aforesaid, betwixt the hours of 6 and 7 in the afternoon, where he rested that night.  The next morning, being Wednesday, betwixt 2 and 3 of the clock, he tooke his journey for the of the city of London, and came into Yorke about 7 of the clock the same day, where he rested that night.  The next morning, being Thursday, betwixt 2 and 3 of the clock he tooke his journey forthe of Yorke, and came to London the same day betwixt 7 and 8 of the clock.  The next day, being Friday, betwixt 2 and 3 of the clock he tooke his journey towards Yorke, and came thither the same day, betwixt the hours of 7 and 8 in the afternoon.  So as he finished his appointed journey (to the admiration of all men, in five days, according to his promise).  And upon Monday, the 27th of this month, he went from Yorke, and came to the court of Greenwich upon Tuesday the 28th, to his majesty, in as fresh and cheerful a manner as when he began.”

* * * * *

SONG.

(For the Mirror.)

“I’ll sing you a new song to-night.”

  I’ll sing you a new song to-night,
    I’ll wake a joyous strain,
  An air to kindle keen delight,
    And banish silent pain;
  Bright thoughts shall chase the clouds of care,
    And gloom of deepest sadness,
  For oh! my spirit loves to wear
    The sunny ray of gladness.

  I love to mix alone with those,
    Whose hearts are wildly free,
  For human griefs, and human woes,
    Are strangers yet to me;

  I will not early learn to pine
    My summer life away,
  But ever bend at pleasure’s shrine,
    And mingle with the gay.

  Should sorrow come with coming years,
    And touch the strings of woe,
  I’ll learn to smile away its tears,
    Or check their idle flow;
  And still I’ll sing; a song as bright,
    And wake as glad a measure,
  Bid grief and sorrow wing their flight,
    And hail the reign of pleasure.

W.H.  PRIDEAUX.

* * * * *

SPIRIT OF DISCOVERY.

* * * * *

IMPROVEMENTS IN BLACK WRITING INK.

By John Bostock, M.D.[2]