PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS
FROM THE PROMPT BOOK.
PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME,
PATERNOSTER ROW.
SAVAGE AND EASINGWOOD,
PRINTERS, LONDON.
With a double respect for talents, and for misfortune,these remarks are begun.
The present comedy is written by O'Keeffe, who sawnot the traces of his pen as he marked the paper;whose days pass away, uncheered by the sun or anyvisible object; but whose mind supports with resignationhis bitter calamity, and is enlightened byimagination, whilst his eyes are shut in utter darkness.
Were each close imitator of an author's style punishableby law, like the perpetrator of other wrongs,Mr. O'Keeffe might have been an independent, thoughnot a happy man; for that source of a new kind of mirth,termed by some exquisite nonsense, of which he wasthe first discoverer, made the town so merry, that,like good wine, he might have sold it at any price;but this rich juice of hilarity, polluted by the falsespirit of imitation, at length gave a stupor to those, whomthe beverage had before revived; and the pure and theadulterated became distasteful together.
This comedy is the only attempt of the author toproduce a drama above opera and farce. His productions,in the latter species of writing, are perfectcompositions: nothing of the kind can be superior tohis "Agreeable Surprise," and his "Son-in-Law."He has a number of other farces of little less attraction;such as "Peeping Tom."—Another class afterthat, and each possessing infinite fancy, whim, andnovelty. Still success did not follow all his productions:a few years past he wrote very frequently, andsometimes too hastily.
On the first night of representing any of thosewhimsical dramas, amidst loud peals of laughter atthe comic dialogue or incidents, there was generally amost affecting spectacle behind the curtain. O'Keeffe,stone-blind, (not an affliction of birth, but of lateyears) led by his little son, as a guide, down to thestage-door—to the lock of which he would anxiouslyplace his ear to catch the quickest information howhis work was received—and when, unhappily hissesfrom the audience would sound louder than applause—instrong agitation he would press his hands to eachside of his head, as if he had yet one sense too much.Thus he would remain, without sight or hearing, tillsome unexpected sally of humour in his drama oncemore put the house in good temper, and they wouldbegin to laugh and applaud;—on which, his son,rapid as lightning, would pull him by the elbow, andcry out, "Now, father, listen again."
"Wild Oats," would not disgrace an author ofmuch higher pretensions in dramatic writing thanMr. O'Keeffe. There is great pleasantry throughoutthe play, many natural touches of simplicity, andsome well-written dialogues and sentiments. The plotis interesting, the characters new, or at least in newsituations, and the whole forms an evening's entertainmentfor an auditor of taste—such a one having at thesame time in his memory, certain popul