The Virginia Gazette

The following Piece, lately Sent me by a Correspondent, I think, cannot fail of being an agreeable and useful Entertainment to many of my Readers; and therefore I give it a Place in my Paper.

The TOY-SHOP,
A Dramatick Satire:

SCENE a Parlour. A Gentleman and Two Ladies drinking Tea.

Gent. AND you have never been at this extraordinary Toy-shop, you say, Madam?

1 La. No, Sir: I have heard of the Man indeed; but most People say, he's a very impertinent, silly Fellow.

Gent. That's because he sometimes tells them of their Faults.

1 La. And that's sufficient. I should think any Man impertinent that should pretend to tell me of my Faults if they did not concern him.

Gent. Yes, Madam, But People that know him, take no Exceptions. And really, tho' some may think him impertinent, in my Opinion he's very entertaining.

2 La. Pray, who is this Man you're talking of? I ne'er heard of him.

Gent. He's one who has lately set up a Toy-shop, Madam, and is, perhaps, the most extraordinary Person in his Way, that ever was heard of. He is a general Satyr, yet not rude nor ill-natur'd. He has got a Custom of moralizing upon every Trifle he sells, and will strike a Lesson of Instruction out of a Snuff-box, a Thimble, or a Cockle-shell.

1 La. Is n't he craz'd.

Gent. Madam, he may be call'd a Humourist ; but he does not want Sense, I assure you.

2 La. Methinks I Should be glad to see him.

Gent. I dare say you will be very much diverted. And if you'll please to give me Leave, I'll wait on you. I'm particularly acquainted with him.

2 La. What say you, Madam, Shall we go?

1 La. I can't help thinking he's a Coxcomb; however, to satisfy Curiosity, I don't care if I do.

Gent. I believe the Coach is at the Door.

2 La. I hope he won't affront us.

Gent. He won't designedly, I'm sure, Madam.

Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Toy-Shop, The Master standing behind the Counter, looking over his Books.

Mat. Methinks I have had a tolerable good Day of it To-Day. A Gold Watch, Five and Thirty Guineas-- Let me see --- What did that Watch stand me in ? --- Where is it ? O here -- (Turning to another Book Lent to Lady Picquet Eighteen Guineas upon her Gold Watch : Ay, she died, and never redeem'd it. -- A Set of old China, Five Pounds. --- Bought of an old Cloaths Man for Five Shillings. ----- Right --- A curious Shell for a Snuff Box, Two Guineas --- Bought of a poor Fisher-Boy for a Half Penny. Now if I had offer'd that Shell for Six Pence, no-body would have bought it. Well, thanks to the whimsical Extravagance and Folly of Mankind, I believe, from these childish Toys, and gilded Baubles, I shall pick up a comfortable Maintenance. For, really, as it is a trifling Age, so nothing but Trifles are valued in it. Men read nothing but trifling Authors, pursue none but trifling Amusements, and contend for none but trifling Opinions. A trifling Fellow is prefer'd, a trifling Woman admir'd. Nay, as if there were not Trifles enow, they now make Trifles of the most serious and valuable Things. Their Time, their Health, their Money, their Reputation, are trifled away. Honesty is become a Trifle, Conscience a Trifle, Honour a mere Trifle, and Religion the greatest Trifle of all.

Enter the Gentleman and the Two Ladies.

Mat. Sir, Your humble Servant, I'm very glad to see you.

Gent. Sir, I am yours. I have brought you some Customers here.

Mat. You are very good Sir. What do you please to want Ladies?

1 La. Please to want! People seldom please to want any Thing, Sir.

Mat. O dear Madam, yes; I always imagine when People come into a Toy-shop, it must be for something they please to want.

2 La. Here's a mighty pretty Looking-Glas: Pray, Sir, what's the Price of it?

Mat. This Looking-Glas, Madam, is the finest in all England. In this Glas a Coquet may see her Vanity, and a Prude her Hypocrisy. Some fine Ladies may see more Beauty than Modesty, more Airs than Grace, and more Wit than Good-nature.

1 La. (aside) He begins already.

Mat. If a Beau was to buy this Glas, and look earnestly into it, he might see his Folly almost as soon as his Finery. 'Tis true, some People may not see their own Generosity in it, nor others their Charity, yet it is a very clear Glas. Some fine Gentlemen may not see their Good-Manners in it perhaps, nor some Persons their Religion, yet it is a very clear Glas. In short, tho' every one that passes for a Maid should not happen to see a Maiden-head in it, yet it may be a very clear Glas, you know, for all that.

2 La. Yes, Sir, but I did not ask you the Virtues of it, I ask'd you the Price.

Mat. It was necessary to tell you the Virtues, Madam, in order to prevent your scrupling the Price, which is Five Guineas, and for so extraordinary a Glas, in my Opinion, it is but a Trifle.

2 La. Lord, I'm afraid to look in it, methinks, lest it should shew me more of my Faults than I care to see.

1 La. Pray, Sir, what can be the Use of this very diminutive Piece of Goods here?

Mat. This Box, Madam, in the first Place, it is a very great Curiosity, being the least Box that ever was seen in England.

1 La. Then a very little Curiosity had been more proper.

Mat. Right Madam. Yet would you think it. in this same little Box, a Courtier may deposit his Sincerity, a Lawyer may screw up his Honesty, and a Poet may --- hoard his Money.

Gent. Ha, ha, ha, I will make a Present of it to Mr. Stanza for the very same Purpose.

2 La. Here's a very fine Perspective. Now, I think, Madam, in the Country these are very pretty Amusements.

Mat. O Madam, the most useful and diverting Things imaginable either in Town or Country. The Nature of this Glas, Madam, (pardon my Impertinence in pretending to tell you what to be sure you are as well acquainted with as my self) is this, If you look thro' it at this End every Object is magnified, brought near, and discern'd with the greatest Plainness; but turn it the other Way, do ye see, and they are lessened, cast at a great Distance, and render'd almost imperceptible. Thro' this End it is that we look at our own Faults ; but when other People's are to be examined, we are ready enough to turn the other. Thro' this End are shewn all the Benefits and Advantages we at any Time receive from others ; but if ever we happen to confer any, they are sure to be shewn in their greatest Magnitude thro' the other. Thro' this we enviously darken and contract the Virtue, the Merit, the Beauty of all the World around us; but fondly complement our own with the most agreeable and advantageous Light thro' the other.

2 La. Why, Sir, methinks you are a new kind of Satyrical Parson, your Shop is your Scripture, and every Piece of Goods a different Text, from which you expound the Vices and Follies of Mankind in a very fine allegorical Sermon.

Mat. Right, Madam, right ; I thank you for the Simile ; I may be call'd a Parson indeed, and I am a very good one in my Way. I take Delight in my Calling,
and am never better pleased than to see a full Congregation. Yet it happens to me as it does to most of my Brethren, People sometimes vouchsafe to take home the Text, perhaps, but mind the Sermon no more than if they had not heard one.

1 La. Why, Sir, when a Short Text has more in it than a long Sermon, it's no Wonder if they do:

Enter a third Lady.

3 La. Pray, Sir, let me look at some of your little Dogs.

2 La. (aside) Little Dogs! My Stars! How cheaply some People are entertained! Well, it's a Sign human Conversation is grown very low and insipid, whilst that of Dogs and Monkeys are preferred to it.

Mat. Here are very beautiful Dogs, Madam, these Dogs when they were alive were some of the greatest Dogs of their Age. I don't mean the largest, but Dogs of the greatest Quality and Merit,

1 La. I love a Dog of Merit dearly; has not he a Dog of Honour too, I wonder.

[aside.]

Mat. Here's a Dog now that never ate but upon Plate or China, nor set his Foot but upon a Carpet or Cushion. Here's one too, this Dog belong'd to a Lady of as great Beauty and Fortune as any in England; he was her most intimate Friend and particular Favourite; and upon that Account has received more Compliments, more Respect, and more Addresses than a first Minister of State. Here's another, which was, doubtless, a Dog of singular Worth and great Importance; since at his Death one of the greatest Families of the Kingdom were all in Tears, received no Visits for the Space of a Week, but Shut themselves up and mourn'd their Loss with inconsolable Sorrow. This Dog while he liv'd, either for Contempt of his Person, Neglect of his Business, or saucy Behaviour in their Attendance on him, had the Honour of turning away above Thirty Servants. He died at last of a Cold caught by following one of the Maids into a damp Room, for which She lost her Place, her Wages, and her Character.

3 La. O the careless wicked Wretch! I would have her tried for Murder at least. That is just my Case! The sad Relation revives my Grief so strongly, I cannot contain. Lucy bring the Box.

Ah!

Here her Maid enters and delivers a Box, from which the Lady pulls out a dead Dog, kissing it and weeping. Lucy too pretends great Sorrow, but turning aside bursts out a-laughing, and cries, he little thinks I poisoned it.

O I have lost the dearest Friend in the World! See! see the charming Creature here lies dead! It's precious Life is gone! Oh my dear Chloe! no more wilt thou be hugged in my warm Bosom! No more will that sweet Tongue lick o'er my Face, nor that dear Mouth eat dainty Bits from mine. O, Death what hast thou robbed me of?

Gent. (Aside) A proper Object to display your Folly.

Mat. Pray, Madam, moderate your Grief; you Ought to thank Heaven 'tis not your Husband.

3 La. Oh, what is Husband, Father, Mother, Son, to my dear precious Chloe! ---- No. no, I cannot live without the Sight of his dear Image; and if you cannot make me the exact Effigie of this poor dead Creature, and cover it with his own dear Skin, so nicely that it cannot be discerned, I must never hope to see one happy Day in my Life.

Mat. Well, Madam, be comforted; I will do it to your Satisfaction.

[Taking the Box.]

3 La. Let me have one Look more. Poor Creature! that Dogs are born to die.

[Exit weeping.]

Gent. What a Scene is here! Are not the real and unavoidable Evils of Life sufficient, that People thus create themselves imaginary Woes?

Mat. These, Sir, are the Griefs of those that have no other: Did they once truly feel the real Miseries of Life, Ten Thousand Dogs might die without a Tear.

Enter a Second Gentleman.

2 Gent. I want an Ivory Pocket-Book.

Mat. Do you please to have it with Directions, or without?

2 Gent. Directions! what, how to use it?

Mat. Yes, Sir.

Gent. I should think every Man's own Business his best Direction.

Mat. It may be so. Yet there are some general Rules, which it equally behoves every Man to be acquainted with. As for Instance: Always to make a Memorandum of the Benefits you receive from others. Always to set down the Faults or Failings, which from Time to Time you discover in yourself. And if you remark any thing that is ridiculous or faulty in others, let it not be with an ill-natured Design to hurt or expose them, at any time, but with a Nota Bene, that it is only for a Caution to yourself, not to be guilty of the like. With a great many other Rules, of such a Nature, as makes one of my Pocket-Books both a useful Monitor, and a very entertaining Companion.

2 Gent. And pray, what's the Price of one.

Mat. The Price is a Guinea, Sir.

Gent. That's very dear. But as it's a Curiosity ----

[Pays for it, and Exit.]

Enter a Beau.

Beau. Pray, Sir, let me see some of your handsomest Snuff Boxes.

Mat. Here's a plain Gold one, Sir, a very neat Box; here's a Gold enamelled; here's a Silver one very neatly carved and gilt: here's a curious Shell, Sir, set in Gold.

Beau. Damn your Shells: there's not one of them fit for a Gentleman to put his Finger into. I want one with some pretty Device on the Inside of the Lid; something that may serve to joke upon, or help one to an Occasion to be witty, that is, smutty, now and then.

Mat. And are witty and smutty then synonymous Terms?

Beau. O dear Sir, yes; a little decent Smut is the very Life of all Conversation. 'Tis the Wit of Drawing-rooms, Assemblies, and Tea-tables. 'Tis the smart Raillery of a fine Gentleman, and innocent Freedom of fine Ladies. 'Tis a Double Entendre, at which the Coquette laughs, and the Prude looks grave, the Modest blush, but yet all are pleased with.

Mat. That it is the Wit and the Entertainment of all Conversations, I believe, Sir, may possibly be a Mistake. 'Tis true those who are so rude as to use it in all Conversations, may possibly be so depraved themselves, as to fancy every Body else as agreeably entertained in hearing it as they are in uttering it: But I dare say, any Man or Woman of real Virtue, and Modesty, has as little Taste for such Ribaldry, as those Coxcombs have for what is good Sense or true Politeness.

Beau. Good Sense, Sir! Damn me, Sir, what do you mean? I would have you think, I know good Sense as well as any Man. Good Sense is a true — a right — a — a — Damn it, I won't be so pedantick as to make Definitions. But I can invent a cramp Oath, Sir; drink a smutty Health, Sir; ridicule Priests, laugh at all Religion, and make such a grave Fellow as you look just like a Fool, Sir. Now I take this to be good Sense.

Mat. And I unmoved can hear such senseless Ridicule, and look upon its Author with an Eye of Pity and Contempt. And I take this to be good Sense.

Beau. Pshaw, Pshaw; damned Hypocrisy and Affectation; Nothing else, nothing else.

Mat. There is nothing so much my Aversion as a Coxcomb. They are a Ridicule upon human Nature, and make one almost ashamed to be of the same Species. And for that Reason, I can't forbear affronting them whenever they fall into my Way. I hope the Ladies will excuse such Behaviour in their Presence.

2 La. Indeed, Sir, I wish we had always Somebody to treat them with such Behaviour in our Presence. 'Twould be much more agreeable than their Impertinence.

The whole Piece being too long for this Paper, we refer the Remainder 'til our next.