Note 46 — CANTO I. OURSELF!
Reading edition
His new exploded solar system.
“Through all the realms the kindling ether runs, And the mass starts into a million suns; Earths round each sun with quick explosions burst, And second planets issue from the first; Bend, as they journey with projectile force, In bright ellipses their reluctant course; Orbs wheel in orbs, round centres centres roll, And form, self-balanced one revolving whole.” Botanic Garden, Canto i.
This sublime philosopher has been most atrociously squibbed in the following performance, which I can assure you, gentlemen, is not mine; and, if I could meet with the author, I would teach him better than to bespatter my favorite with the filth of his obloquy.
“Lines on a certain philosopher, who maintains that all continents and islands were thrown from the sea by volcanoes; and that all animal life originally sprung from the exuviæ of fishes. His family arms are three scallop shells, and his motto, “Omnia e Conchis.”
“From atoms in confusion hurl’d, Old Epicurus built a world;— Maintain’d that all was accidental, Whether corporeal powers, or mental; That feet were not devised for walking, For eating, teeth; nor tongues for talking; But CHANCE, the casual texture made, And thus each member found its trade. And in this hodge podge of stark nonsense, He buried virtue, truth and conscience— Darwin at last resolves to list Under this grand cosmogonist. He, too, renounces his Creator, And solves all sense from senseless matter; Makes men start up from dead fish bones, As old Deucalion did from stones; Forms mortals quick as eyes could twinkle, From lobster, crab, and periwinkle— Oh Doctor! Change thy foolish motto, Or keep it for some lady’s grotto: Else thy poor patients well may quake, If thou canst no more mend than make.”