the public thoroughfares of Dublin, where the melancholy spectacle of a beautiful limb in pain never failed to excite the sighs and sympathies of all the interesting persons who passed, as well as to prompt their curiosity to make audible remarks or inquiries respecting the possessor.” We are much afraid that the vanity of Mr Maturin was not wonderfully peculiar, and with due allowance for those differences in our styles of dress and living which have been made in fifty years, it would not be difficult to find ministers of the gospel who would prove strong rivals to the curate of St Peter’s. In 1825 the _New Times_ presented the public with the original of that singular advertisement which has been so often quoted as an Irish bull, but which would appear to be home-bred: “Wanted by a Surgeon residing at Guildford, two apprentices, who will be treated as one of the family.” The Hibernian companion to this would most fitly be the Dublin editor’s statement, in reference to a newly-invented laundry machine, that by its use every man would probably become his own washerwoman. From washerwomen to general servants is but a step, and so from the _Times_ of five-and-twenty years back we extract a model specimen, supposed to emanate from that rarest of _raræ aves_, a pattern domestic:-- DO YOU WANT A SERVANT? Necessity prompts the question. The advertiser OFFERS his SERVICES to any lady or gentleman, company, or others, in want of a truly faithful, confidential servant in any capacity not menial, where a practical knowledge of human nature in various parts of the world would be available. Could undertake any affair of small or great importance, where talent, inviolable secrecy, or good address would be necessary. Has moved in the best and worst societies without being contaminated by either; has never been a servant, begs to recommend himself as one who knows his place; is moral, temperate, middle-aged; no objection to any part of the world. Could advise any capitalist wishing to increase his income and have the control of his own money. Could act as secretary or valet to any lady or gentleman. Can give advice or hold his tongue, sing, dance, play, fence, box, preach a sermon, tell a story, be grave or gay, ridiculous or sublime, or do anything from the curling of a peruke to the storming of a citadel--but never to excel his master. Address ----. Differing considerably, and yet much in the same line, is the following, which is amusing from the amount of confidence the writer possesses in his own powers, and the small value he sets upon the attainments of those who possess that most valuable qualification of all--property. The offer never to be better than his patron is a condescension indeed from such a paragon:--