r tailor; this from your
mercer; and this from the little broker in Crooked Lane. He
says he has been at a great deal of trouble to get back the
money you borrowed.

_Hon._ That I don't know; but I'm sure we were at a great
deal of trouble in getting him to lend it.

_Jar._ He has lost all patience.

_Hon._ Then he has lost a very good thing.

_Jar._ There's that ten guineas you were sending to the poor
gentleman and his children in the Fleet. I believe that
would stop his mouth for a while at least.

_Hon._ Ay, Jarvis, but what will fill their mouths in the
mean time?"

This young Honeywood, the hero of the play, is, and remains
throughout, a somewhat ghostly personage. He has attributes; but no
flesh or blood. There is much more substance in the next character
introduced--the inimitable Croaker, who revels in evil forebodings and
drinks deep of the luxury of woe. These are the two chief characters;
but then a play must have a plot. And perhaps it would not be fair, so
far as the plot is concerned, to judge of _The Good-natured Man_
merely as a literary production. Intricacies that seem tedious and
puzzling on paper appear to be clear enough on the stage: it is much
more easy to remember the history and circumstances of a person whom
we see before us, than to attach these to a mere name--especially as
the name is sure to be clipped down from _Honeywood_ to _Hon._ and
from _Leontine_ to _Leon._ However, it is in the midst of all the
cross-purposes of the lovers that we once more come upon our old
friend Beau Tibbs--though Mr. Tibbs is now in much better
circumstances, and has been re-named by his creator Jack Lofty.
Garrick had objected to the introduction of Jack, on the ground that
he was only a distraction. But Goldsmith, whether in writing a novel
or a play, was more anxious to represent human nature than to prune a
plot, and paid but little respect to the unities, if only he could
arouse our interest. And who is not delighted with this Jack Lofty and
his "duchessy" talk--his airs of patronage, his mysterious hints, his
gay familiarity with the great, his audacious lying?

"_Lofty._ Waller? Waller? Is he of the house?

_Mrs. Croaker._ The modern poet of that name, sir.

_Lof._ Oh, a modern! We men of business despise the moderns;
and as for the ancients, we have no time to read them.
Poetry is a pretty thing enough for o