The third column is almost entirely occupied by “Wanted” advertisements and we had resolved to pass over all their “Wants;” had not some of them occurred to us as rather singular, even in these times of general distress.  The first of these is for a respectable middle-aged woman, as lady’s maid—­“to understand dress-making, millinery, hair-dressing, getting-up fine linen, and to be useful and obliging.”  All this is reasonable enough; but mark the inducement:  “a clever person fond of the country, and who can bear confinement, will find this a comfortable situation!” “This is too much.”  Another is for a butler and a valet, to “undertake the care and responsibility of a numerous family:”  another is a young man for “a situation in any shop or warehouse, not particular what:”  another of “a nurse, who can cut and make children’s dresses, and instruct them in reading and spelling;” a school-assistant “to fill the second desk,” &c.  Next come a few characteristics of a scientific age—­as patent trouser-straps, to “prevent the dirt getting between the strap and the boot, &c.;” and patent springs for waistcoat backs—­to cause the clothes to fit well to the shape, &c.—­and, above all, a legitimate, scientific Diaphane parasol.

The “Wants” are resumed in the fourth column.  One is a young man to be able to walk well; “it is immaterial what he has been accustomed to.”

In the fourth column we find “a family grave to be sold, unused for nearly 50 years at that period, but partly occupied. To save trouble, price 25_l_.”  Another advertisement—­“to small capitalists” is a perfect puzzle; for the advertiser will not describe the “ready-money concern” to be disposed of, but says, “the principal article of sale is what is consumed, either in a greater or less degree, by almost every individual.”  Next is a tallowchandler’s business in a situation which “will command an extensive trade immediately the new Fleet Market is erected”—­rather anticipatory, to be sure.  Another, “worthy of notice,” offers for 260 guineas, seven houses, which cost 800 in building—­a tolerable speculation.

The last column commences with a fine brown gelding, (like most friends) parted with for no fault, free from vice, although, “a trial will be granted.”  Another announces for sale, several “bays, greys, roans, creams, and duns:”  a chaise “parted with for no other fault than the present owner having purchased a four-wheeled one;” and “a house near the church, commanding extensive and pleasing prospects.”

The fourth folio, or side of the paper, is nearly filled with advertisements of sales by auction, a single glance at which would convince us of the instability of human affairs, even if we did not read in one corner, of a theatrical wardrobe, containing five splendid new court dresses, trimmed with gold and silver (except the pockets,) and 52 very fine wigs.