The Toy-Shop (1735) is reproduced from the copy of the first edition in the Henry E. Huntington Library (Shelf Mark: 152063). A typical type-page (p. 23) measures 135 x 72 mm.
The King and the Miller of Mansfield (1737) is reproduced from the copy of the first edition in the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library (Shelf Mark: *PR3409/D7K5). A typical type-page (p. 13) measures 145 x 73 mm.
Well, Heav'n be prais'd, this dull grave Sermon's done.
(For faith our Author might have call'd it one)
I wonder who the Devil he thought to please!
Is this a Time o' Day for Things like these?
Good Sense and honest Satire now offend;
We're grown too wise to learn, too proud to mend.
And so divinely wrapt in Songs and Tunes,
The next wise Age will all be – Fiddlers Sons.
And did he think plain Truth wou'd Favour find?
Ah! 'tis a Sign he little knows Mankind!
To please, he ought to have a Song or Dance,
The Tune from Italy, the Caper France:
These, these might charm – But hope to do't with Sense!
Alas, alas, how vain is the Pretence!
But, tho' we told him, – Faith, 'twill never do. —
Pho, never fear, he cry'd, tho' grave, 'tis new:
The Whim, perhaps, may please, if not the Wit.
And, tho' they don't approve, they may permit.
If neither this nor that will intercede,
Submissive bond, and thus for Pardon plead.
"To gen'rous Few, to you our Author sues
His first Essay with Candour to excuse.
'T has Faults, he owns, but, if they are but small,
He hopes your kind Applause will hide them all."
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 never 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 Satyrist, 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. Isn't he cras'd?
Gent. Madam, he may be call'd a Humourist; but he does not want Sense, I do 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.
Mast. 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 – Lent [Turning to another book backwards and forwards.] to Lady Basset 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 Sixpence, 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 none 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 real Trifles enow, they now make Trifles of the most serious and valuable Things. Their Time, their Health, their Money, their Reputation, are trifled away. Honestly is become a Trifle, Conscience a Trifle, Honour a mere Trifle, and Religion the greatest Trifle of all.
Mast. Sir, your humble Servant, I'm very glad to see you.
Gent. Sir, I am yours. I have brought you some Customers here.
Mast. 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.
Mast. 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 Glass; Pray, Sir, what's the Price of it?
Mast. This Looking Glass, Madam, is the finest in all England. In this Glass a Coquet may see her Vanity, and a Prude her Hypocrisy. Some fine Ladies may see more Beauty than Modesty, more Airs than Graces, and more Wit than Good-nature.
1 La. [Aside.] He begins already.
Mast. If a Beau was to buy this Glass, and look earnestly in it, he might see his Folly almost as soon as his Finery. 'Tis true, some People may not see their Generosity in it, nor others their Charity, yet it is a very clear Glass. Some fine Gentlemen may not see their Good-manners in it perhaps, nor some Parsons their Religion, yet it is a very clear Glass. In short, tho' every one that passes for a Maid should not happen to see a Maidenhead in it, yet it may be a very clear Glass, 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.
Mast. 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 Glass, in my Opinion, it is but a Trifle.
2 La. Lord, I'm afraid to look in it, methinks, lest it should show 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?
Mast. 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.
Mast. Right, Madam. Yet, would you think it, in this same little Box, a Courtier may deposite 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 fine Perspective. Now, I think, Madam, in the Country these are a very pretty Amusement.
Mast. O, Madam, the most useful and diverting things imaginable either in Town or Country. The Nature of this Glass, Madam, (pardon my impertinence in pretending to tell you what to be sure you are as well acquainted with as myself) 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 all lessen'd, cast at a great Distance, and rendered 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 view'd 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 shown 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 Compliment our own with the most agreeable and advantageous Light thro' the other.
2 La. Why, Sir, methinks you are a new Kind of a Satirical Parson, your Shop is your Scripture, and every piece of Goods a different Text, from which you expose the Vices and Follies of Mankind in a very fine allegorical Sermon.
Mast. Right, Madam, right; I thank you for the Simile. I may be call'd a Parson indeed, and 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.
3 Lady. Pray, Sir, let me look at some of your little Dogs.
2 La. [Aside.] Little Dogs! My Stars! How cheaply some People are entertain'd! Well, it's a Sign human Conversation is grown very low and insipid, whilst that of Dogs and Monkeys is preferr'd to it.
Mast. Here are very beautiful Dogs, Madam, these Dogs when they were alive were some of them 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.]
Mast. Here's a Dog now that never eat but upon Plate or China, nor set his Foot but upon a Carpet or a 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 receiv'd 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 in the Kingdom were all in Tears, receiv'd 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 impertinent Behaviours in their Attendance on him, had the Honour of turning away upwards of 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 Lady. O the careless wicked Wretch! I would have had her try'd for Murder at least. That, that is just my Case! The sad Relation revives my Grief so strongly I cannot contain. Lucy, bring in the Box.11 O I have lost the dearest Friend in the World! See! see the charming Creature, here, lies dead! Its precious Life is gone! Oh, my dear Chloe! no more wilt thou lie hugg'd 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 robb'd me of?
Gent. [Aside.] A proper Object to display your Folly.
Mast. 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 Effigies of this poor dead Creature, and cover it with his own dear Skin, so nicely that it cannot be discern'd, I must never hope to see one happy Day in Life.
Mast. Well, Madam, be comforted, I will do it to your Satisfaction.
[Taking the Box.
3 Lady. Let me have one look more. Poor Creature! O cruel Fate, 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?
Mast. 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.
2 Gent. I want an Ivory Pocket-book.
Mast. Do you please to have it with Directions, or without?
2 Gent. Directions! what, how to use it?
Mast. Yes, Sir.
2 Gent. I should think, every Man's own Business his best Direction.
Mast. It may 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-natur'd Design to hurt or expose them, at any Time, but with a Nota bene, that it is only for a Caution to your self, 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 of them?
Mast. The Price is a Guinea, Sir.
2 Gent. That's very dear. But, as it's a Curiosity – [Pays for it, and Exit.]
Beau. Pray, Sir, let me see some of your handsomest Snuff-boxes.
Mast. Here's a plain Gold one, Sir, a very neat Box; here's a Gold enamell'd; here's a Silver one neatly carv'd and gilt; here's a curious Shell, Sir, set in Gold.
Beau. Dam your Shells; there's not one of them fit for a Gentleman to put his Fingers 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.
Mast. And are witty and smutty then synonimous Terms?
Beau. O dear Sir, yes; a little decent Smutt is the very Life of all Conversation. 'Tis the Wit of Drawing-Rooms, Assemblies, and Tea-tables. 'Tis the smart Raillery of fine Gentlemen, and the innocent Freedom of fine Ladies. 'Tis a Double Entendre, at which the Coquet laughs, the Prude looks grave, the Modest blush, but all are pleas'd with.
Mast. 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 deprav'd themselves, as to fancy every body else as agreeably entertain'd 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! Damme, 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 – a – Dam it, I wo'nt 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 Prig as you look just like a Fool, Sir. Now, I take this to be good Sense.
Mast. And I unmov'd 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.