[56a] “‘The Beautiful Incendiary,’ by the Honourable W. Spencer, is also an imitation of great merit. The flashy, fashionable, artificial style of this writer, with his confident and extravagant compliments, can scarcely be said to be parodied in such lines.”—Jeffrey, Edinburgh Review.
[56b] Sobriety, &c. The good-humour of the poet upon occasion of this parody has been noticed in the Preface. “It’s all very well for once,” said he afterwards, in comic confidence, at his villa at Petersham, “but don’t do it again. I had been almost forgotten when you revived me; and now all the newspapers and reviews ring with this fashionable, trashy author.’” The sand and “filings of glass,” mentioned in the last stanza, are referable to the well-known verses of the poet apologising to a lady for having paid an unconscionably long morning visit; and where, alluding to Time, he says—
“All his sands are diamond sparks,
That glitter as they pass.”
Few men in society have more “gladdened life” than this poet. He now [1833] resides in Paris, and may thence make the grand tour without an interpreter—speaking, as he does, French, Italian, and German, as fluently as English.
[57] 10th of October, 1812, the day of opening.
[59] Congreve’s plug. The late Sir William Congreve had made a model of Drury Lane Theatre, to which was affixed an engine that, in event of fire, was made to play from the stage into every box in the house. The writer, accompanied by Theodore Hook, went to see the model at Sir William’s house in Cecil-street. “Now I’ll duck Whitbread!” said Hook, seizing the water-pipe whilst he spoke, and sending a torrent of water into the brewer’s box.
[60] See Byron, afterwards, its Don Juan:—
“For flesh is grass, which Time mows down to hay.”
But as Johnson says of Dryden, “His known wealth was so great, he might borrow without any impeachment of his credit.”
[61] “‘Fire and Ale,’ by M. G. Lewis, exhibits not only a faithful copy of the spirited, loose, and flowing versification of that singular author, but a very just representation of that mixture of extravagance and jocularity which has impressed most of his writings with the character of a sort of farcical horror.”—Jeffrey, Edinburgh Review.