If the two last acts of this drama were equal tothe three first, it would rank the foremost among Farquhar'sworks; for these are brilliant in wit, humour,character, incident, and every other requisite necessaryto form a complete comedy. But the decrease ofmerit in a play, on approaching its conclusion, is, asin all other productions, of most unfortunate consequence.
The author was himself a recruiting officer, andpossibly gathered all the materials for this play on thevery spot where he has placed his scene—Shrewsbury.He has dedicated the piece "to all friends round theWrekin," and has thanked the inhabitants of the townfor that cheerful hospitality, which made, he adds, "therecruiting service, to some men the greatest fatigue onearth, to me the greatest pleasure in the world."
He even acknowledges, that he found the countryfolk, whom he has here introduced—meaning thosemost excellently drawn characters of Rose, her brother,and the two recruits,—under the shade of thatbeforementioned hill near Shrewsbury, the Wrekin;and it may be well supposed, that he discovered SerjeantKite in his own Regiment, and Captain Plumein his own person. Certainly those charactershave every appearance of being copied from life—andprobably, many other of his Salopian acquaintancehave here had their portraits drawn to perfection.
The disguise of Sylvia in boy's clothes, is an improbable,and romantic occurrence; yet it is one ofthose dramatic events, which were considered as perfectlynatural in former times; although neither history,nor tradition, gives any cause to suppose,that the English ladies were accustomed to attirethemselves in man's apparel; and reason assures us,that they could seldom, if ever, have concealed theirsex by such stratagem.
Another incident in the "Recruiting Officer" mighthave had its value a hundred years ago—just thetime since the play was first acted; but to the presentgeneration, it is so dull, that it casts a heaviness uponall those scenes, whereon it has any influence. Fortune-tellersare now a set of personages, in whom,and in whose skill or fraud, no rational person takesinterest; and though such people still exist by theirprofession, they are so vile, they are beneath satire;and their dupes such ideots, they do not even enjoysense enough, for their folly to produce risibility.
Perhaps, the author despised this part of his play,as much as the severest critic can do; but having expendedhis store of entertainment upon the foregoingscenes, he was compelled to supply the bulk of thetwo last acts, from the scanty fund of wasted spirits,and exhausted invention.
The life of Farquhar was full of adventures.—As astudent, he was expelled the college of Dublin, foradventuring profane wit upon a sacred theme, givento him by his tutor for his exercise.
As an actor, he forsook the stage in grief and horror,on having unknowingly made use of a real sword,instead of a counterfeit one, by which he wounded abrother performer, with whom he had to fence in atragedy, nearly to the loss of his life.
In love, and marriage, his enterprises were stillmore unhappily terminated.—And merely as an author,an