K004299.000.txt

THE GOLDEN AGE, A POETICAL EPISTLE FROM ERASMUS DN, M. D. TO THOMAS BEDDOES, M. D.The French, that most injured and most enlightened people upon Earth, within these few years (since Despotism has been overawed by Liberty) have improved Science more than all other Nations put together. BEDDOES'S REASONS, &c.May we not, by regulating the vegetable functions, teach our Woods and Hedges to supply us with Butter and Tallow? BEDDOES'S OBSERVATIONS ON CALCULUS, SCURVY, &c. p. .LONDON, PRINTED FOR F. AND C. RIVINGTON; AND J. COOKE, OXFORD. MDCCXCIV.THE GOLDEN AGE,A POETICAL EPISTLE.BOAST of proud Shropshire, Oxford's lasting shame,Whom none but Coxcombs scorn, but Fools defame,Eternal war with dulness born to wage,Thou Paracelsus of this wondrous age;BEDDOES, the philosophic Chymist's Guide,The Bigot's Scourge, of Democrats the Pride;Accept this lay; and to thy Brother, Friend,Or name more dear, a Sans Culotte attend,While in Rhyme's Galligaskins I encloseThe broad posteriors of thy brawny prose,
And sing, by thee inspir'd, in tuneful strain,The blest return of Saturn's golden reign!Oh had I, silly swain, the force and fireOf some, whom Frenchmen's bloody deeds inspire;Could I, ascending on the wing of sound,Pleas'd with the grand, the lofty and profound,Rise above mortal ken in rapturous glow,Leaving poor pursy Sense to pant below;Could I, for ever studious to refine,Prank with my pearly phrase each pretty line,Or like an empty Bottle, deep immers'd,Whence Bubbles after Bubbles bustling burst,Amus'd to view my noisy nothings swell,In the sweet vanity of thought excel;Now bursting o'er the bounds of vulgar Rhyme,Gracefully great and terribly sublime;Trolling in full-toned melody alongWith all the clattering clang of modern song;I'd hail the progress of those blissful days,When fair Philosophy's meridian rays
Shall brighten Nature's face, shall drive the MolesOf blinking Error to their secret holes,Disperse the darkness of primaeval Night,And bid a new Creation rise to light!Proceed, great days! and bring, oh! bring to viewThings strange to tell! Incredible, but true!Behold, behold, the Golden Age appears:Skip, skip, ye Mountains! Forests lend your Ears!See red-capt Liberty from heaven descend,And real Prodigies her steps attend!Nec varios discet mentiri lana colores:Ipse sed in pratis Aries jam suavè rubentiMurice, jam croceo mutabit vellera luto:Sponte suâ sandyx pascentes vestiet agnos.VIRGIL. No more immers'd in many a foreign dyeShall British wool be taught to blush and lie;But all our pastures glow with purple Rams,With scarlet Lambkins, and their yellow Dams!The renovation of the world under the benign influence of French Freedom has been long foretold by prophets of every description, by some who manufacture verses, others who manufacture cotton, by maudling Mrs's, and mincing Misses, by enlightened Lawyers and more enlightened Physicians; but by none more fully expected, more ardently longed for, than by Dr. Beddoes and A Gentleman of Pembroke College, Oxford, to whom Dr. Beddoes addresses a late elaborate work  appellation his "Dear Giddy!" The great Dr. assures us, that not only science in general will shortly advance towards perfection, but that in particular "a new Medicine will arise from the ashes of the old with healing in its wings." How this revolution is to be effected we are informed in the dedication of his Observations on Calculus, &c. p. 4. "We are just beginning to catch a glimpse of the laws of animal Nature; and now when the human mind seems in so many countries  be roused from that torpor, by which it has so long been benumbed, we may reasonably indulge the expectation of a rapid progress in this the most beneficial of all the sciences. An infinitely small portion of genius has hitherto been exerted to diminish the sum of our painful sensations; and the force of society has been exclusively at the disposal of Despots and Juntos, the great Artificers of human Evil. Should an entire change in these two respects any where take place, every member of society might soon expect to experience in his own person the consequence of so happy an innovation; and should the example be generally , there is no improvement in the condition of the World, for which we might not  from the bloodless rivalship of Nations." But we are told, that the same influence of Liberty and Genius will not only in other respects effect equal wonders, but produce greater blessings. "We know," exclaims this egregious Chymist, "that vegetables are capable of forming oils either exactly the same as those of Animals, or very nearly resembling them. Thus we have the suet of the Croton Sebiferum, the butter of the Phoenix Dactylifera and of the Butyrum Cacao. When, from a more intimate acquaintance with them, we shall be better able to apply the Laws of organic bodies to the accommodation as well as preservation of Life, may we not, by regulating the vegetable functions, teach our woods and hedges to supply us with Butter and Tallow?" Observations on Calculus, &c. p. 109. No more the lazy Ox shall gormandize,And swell with fattening grass his monstrous size;
No more trot round and round the groaning field,But tons of Beef our loaded Thickets yield!The patient Dairy-Maid no more shall learnWith tedious toil to whirl the frothy Churn;
But from the Hedges shall her Dairy fill,As pounds of Butter in big drops distil!The sottish Jews, who in a God believ'd,And sometimes blessings, oftener plagues receiv'd,Shouted a Miracle, when on the groundTheir boasted bread the greedy grumblers found:By no dry crusts shall Infidels be fed,Our soil producing Butter to our Bread!See reverend Thames, who God of Rivers reigns,And winds meand'ring through our richest plains,To treat the Cits, that many a sixpence giveOnce in a week like Gentlemen to live,Resign his majesty of mud, and streamO'er strawberry beds in deluges of Cream!See Tallow Candles tip the modest Thorn,Candles of Wax the prouder Elm adorn!See the dull Clown survey with stupid stareWhere Leaves once grew, now periwigs of Hair!While fluids, which a wondrous change betray,Ooze from the vernal bud, the summer spray,Differing from animals alone in name,(As Botanists already half exclaim).
See plants, susceptible of joy and woe,Feel all we feel, and know whate'er we know!View them like us inclin'd to watch or sleep,Like us to smile, and, ah! like us to weep!Like us behold them glow with warm desire,And catch from Beauty's glance celestial fire!Then, oh! ye fair, if through the shady groveMusing on absent Lovers you should rove,And there with tempting step all heedless brushToo near some wanton metamorphos'd Bush,Or only hear perchance the western breezeSteal murmuring through the animated Trees,Beware, beware, lest to your cost you findThe Bushes dangerous, dangerous too the Wind,Lest, ah! too late with shame and grief you feelWhat your fictitious Pads would ill conceal!While Plants turn Animals, Man, happy Man,"If this supposition were just, might not some means be discovered to protract the period of Youth and Vigour indefinitely? Whether true or false, and even though we should never be able to restore new excitability to the system, there can be no doubt of the immediate practicability of prolonging Life considerably; and what is much more desirable, of maintaining a firmer state of Health." Observations on Calculus, &c. p. 106. "Nor, however remote Medicine may be at present from such perfection, do I see any reason to doubt, that by taking advantage of various and continual accessions as they accrue to Science, the same power may be acquired over living as is at present exercised over some inanimate bodies; and that not only the cure and prevention of diseases, but the art of protracting the fairest season of Life, and rendering Health more vigorous, will one day half realize the dream of Alchemy!" Beddoes's Letter to Darwin, p. 29. To ages shall extend Life's lengthen'd span.
Bane to our bliss, no more the wrinkled faceBeauty's bewitching circles shall disgrace;But see the reigning Toast half kind, half coy,Her Rivals' envy, and her Lover's Joy,Skill'd to allure, to charm us, and beguile,In all the bloom of Eighty sit and smile!Thus shall each Belle a lovely L'ENCLOS prove,Drive Boys of future Cent'ries mad with love;The Marriage Table its degrees extend,And to our great, great Grandmother ascend.Poor POPE, who griev'd "that Life could scarce supply"More than to look about him, and to die,"Had he but flourish'd in these Halcyon days,Might long have bid Life's little Candle blaze,Have grown strait, handsome, brisk and debonnair,The Muses' favourite, favourite of the Fair!
Happy the Poet's lot, who can prolong,Till time shall be no more, his deathless song;And live himself to see his swelling nameRoll, like a Snowball, gathering all its fame!Happy, thrice happy he, who at his willCan drink of Life's sweet cup his constant fill;Dr. Beddoes, in a little tract addressed to the Author of this Epistle, entertains us with a long history of how he made himself very lean, very fair (his complexion having been before of an uniform brown), very pretty, and very consumptive, by the use of a certain "Cosmetic" called Oxygenous Air; and how he afterwards cured himself of the said Leanness and Consumption at his Friend's, Quaker Reynolds's, in Colnbrook Dale, by a diet in which Butter and Cream bore the largest proportions. See pages 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, and 55. Who, if excess of Oxygene createSymptoms, which lean Consumption indicate,A sure specific can procure with ease,Rich Cream and Butter from his herd of Trees:Or if he find excess of To prevent our Sailors from growing fat, and afterwards falling into the Scurvy (of which Obesity, we are informed, is the first symptom), Dr. Beddoes proposes that the jolly Tars should eat their food raw! Observations, p. 60. HydrogeneHis body load with fat, his mind with spleen,True health and vigour to restore, can takeFrom some regenerate Oak a savoury steak,
Sliced off the slaughter'd Monster's quondam stump,Converted now into a real Rump,And, blest with an accommodating maw,Devour the luscious bit, red, recent, raw!Now rise, my Muse, and, warm with rapture, dartFrom Men to Manners, "Fancy to the Heart."Transporting sight! to view the Sons of PrideTheir little heads with shame and sorrow hide,Ranks and Distinctions cease, all reeking lieIn the mean muck of low Equality!Favourites of freedom, Sons of frisky France,Who never learnt like British Bears to dance,And, while their Premier's humdrum Bagpipes sound,Led by the nose, jog growling round and round;But more like Monkeys, airy, light, and gay,Pleas'd on your Master's head to skip and play;Ye pious Atheists, Moralists, who deemThe Christian's Heaven and Hell an idle Dream,Delighted to deride all vulgar fearsOf Beelzebub's black Claws, cropt Tail, and Ears,
With manly Scorn and Dignity to treadOn prostrate Superstition's hoary head;Who, foes to Power Despotic, dare defyThe King of Kings, that Bugbear of the sky;Dreading for present crimes no future rod,Self-praise your worship, Vanity your God:Oh how my Eyes with tears ecstatic fill,What new felt transports through my bosom thrill,When I behold you with gigantic blowThe pigmy pride of Royalty lay low,With pikes and guns this moral dogma teach—Virtue consists in nudity of Breech!Soon shall we view no more the glittering ThingsBestarr'd, begarter'd, and befool'd by Kings;The pretty Twinklers that so sweetly shone,And deem'd their lovely lustre all their own!No more the Despot view, whose mighty nodsShook nature, and proclaim'd him God of Gods;Drunk with applause who rais'd his rolling Eyes,And seem'd, whene'er he mov'd, to tread the skies!
Despis'd, detested, all shall wing their flight,And sink, no more to rise, in endless night!Arm'd with a bristled End and glittering Awl,Behold a minor Monarch in his Stall!No circling Gold his royal brow surrounds,A Yard of Room his sphere of Action bounds;His sole ambition and his prime pursuit,With skill a Shoe to patch, to stitch a Boot!Nor deem his fate severe! The time may comeWhen many a pious King in Christendom,Dash'd from his throne, and made Dame Fortune's Fool,Shall envy little Capet's cobbling stool!Mark with the Peer and Prince the * canting Priest,Forbidden on his Country's fat to feast, "It is a law of human Nature, the less of ecclesiastical influence, the less of deadly animosity among Men."—"It is reasonable to presume that the majority of French Priests in England partake of the Spirit of their Brethren; and to a large portion of the popish Priesthood, Christianity is believed, upon good grounds, to be as much foolishness as it was to the Greeks. Their faith in the advantages of the immense emoluments which those Reverend Robbers, their predecessors, had extorted from superstitious Barbarians, never suffered any abatement; hence probably that conduct to which their sufferings are to be imputed."—"Through all the calumny that has been vomited forth against the French, the most injured and most enlightened people upon Earth, it is easy to discern some advantages which the Nation owes to Liberty—Tythes, the accursed relic of Popery, have been abolished.—France is purged not only from Ecclesiastical Drones, which consumed the sweetest honey of the hive, but also from the monstrous debauchery of the richer, and the beggarly insolence of the poorer Noblesse."—Dr. Beddoes's admirable Reasons for believing the friends of Liberty in France not to be the Authors or Abettors of the crimes committed in that Country; humbly addressed to those who from time to time constitute themselves Judges and Jury upon affairs public and private and, without admitting any testimony but the gross lies of Beldame Rumour, damn their Neighbours individually, and the rest of the World by the Lump; the celebrated Hand bill circulated in Shropshire, which eventually occasioned his resignation of the Chemical Chair in the University of Oxford.
While peace looks down sweet smiling on the swains,And untax'd Plenty crowns the fruitful plains!No more that lazy Lubbard shall we pay,With phiz so farcical to preach and pray;No more behold that Harpy of the landLay on our largest sheaves his greedy hand;With Bigotry's black banner wide unfurl'd,Fright into Gothic Ignorance the world:But Truth and Light shall come, with hostile rage,"To drive the holy Vandal off the stage."See Tythes expire, and ancient Slavery fail;Proud Superstition turn her vanquish'd tail;No zealous Minister the Church befriend,But all her sorceries with the Beldame end:
Lo! Babylon is fallen! That mystic —That Sink of Wickedness, is now no more!Great Babylon is fallen! Shout, shout, ye Meads!And, oh! ye Corn-fields, wave your happy heads!Ye lovely Lambkins, strain your feeble voice,And with your Dams in loudest Baas rejoice!Calves, join your notes to swell the gladdening sound!Cows, let your lowings from the skies rebound!Prolific Ducks, quack mid the mighty noise!Hens, more prolific, cackle out your joys!And ye, oh! Swine, lift up your little Eyes,With rapture riot round your rotten Styes!Stretch your triumphant throats, and strive to makeThe frighten'd welkin with your Gruntings shake!FINIS.