Playgoers felt that the old school of actors was breaking up, and the poets did little to render the finale illustrious. It was the dramatic era of Kelly and Goldsmith, both of them needy Irishmen, and hard-working literary men, having many things in common, except talent, but being especially antagonistic as the upholders--Kelly of sentimental, Goldsmith of natural comedy. Kelly was the victor at first, for his "False Delicacy," of which few now know anything, brought him a little fortune, while Goldsmith's "Good-natured Man" would have made shipwreck but for Shuter's energy and humour. As I look over the records of this time, I cannot but remark how many of the dramatic poets toiled in vain. Taking, for instance, the tragic writers--Hoole, the watchmaker's son, is still an honoured name as a translator of the Italian poets, but his "Cyrus" and "Timanthes" are wrapped in oblivion. Some among us may still read the story of _Hindostan_ written by one whose own story was as strange as that of _Gil Blas_, and who, driven upon the world as an adventurer, in consequence of a duel, in which he was a principal, rose from the condition of a common sailor to be Secretary to the Governor of Bencoolen, and a Lieutenant-Colonel. I allude to the Scotchman, Dow, at whose "Zingis" the public laughed, more than they shuddered,[97] and whose "Sethona" even the two Barrys could not render endurable, despite magnificent acting.[98] Home fared as badly as Dow. There was a strong prejudice at this season against Scotchmen, and Home was obnoxious as a client of Lord Bute's. His "Fatal Discovery," an Ossianic subject, was mounted with Roman costumes and Greek scenery, and the audience threatened to burn the house down if the piece was not withdrawn![99] The silver tongue of Barry could not charm them into patience. Equally unsuccessful was Home's "Alonzo,"[100] the hero of which does not appear till the play is half over. Home sat by Barry's bed-side as the tragedy was being acted, and Mrs. Barry sent every half hour to say how she was, hoping the best and doing her utmost. But what could even that great actress do for a piece of which the story, as Walpole remarks, is that of David and Goliath, worse told than it would have been if Sternhold and Hopkins had put it into metre? His criticism is made in his happiest vein: "A gentlewoman embraces her maid, when she expects her husband. He goes mad with jealousy, without discovering what he ails, and runs away to Persia, where the post comes in from Spain, with news of a duel that is to be fought, the Lord knows when. As Persian princes love single combat as well as if they had been bred in Lucas's coffee-house, nobody is surprised that the Prince of Persia should arrive to fight a duel, that was probably over before he set out. The wife discovers the Prince to be her own husband, and the lad her own son, and so, to prevent mischief, stabs herself, and then tells the whole story, which it was rather more natural to do