ABSTRACT
Erasmus Darwin boasted one of the most versatile minds in eighteenth-century Britain. As a practicing physician, prolific inventor and essayer of natural history, he left an impression on nearly every branch of scientific knowledge. His masterwork, The Botanic Garden, also made him one of the most popular poets of his age. To a twenty-first-century audience, however, The Botanic Garden may seem like a quaint curiosity. Darwin has long been relegated to the minor literary canon—a casualty, in a sense, of his own polymathic tendencies. His highly allusive verse, laden with references to personages both historical and fantastical, challenges even the seasoned reader. More daunting still are the extensive “philosophical notes” to The Botanic Garden, which grapple with debates in a myriad of scientific and other disciplines. Only recently have more ecumenical definitions of literary study itself begun to accommodate Darwin once again. 1
