Erasmus Darwin was in many respects a remarkable man. In his own neighborhood he was highly esteemed as a physician, and by many intelligent readers of his day he was greatly prized as a poet. Horace Walpole said of his "Botanic Garden" that it was "the most delicious poem upon earth," and he declared that he "could read it over and over again forever." The doctor was accustomed to write his poems with a pencil on little scraps of paper while riding about among his patients in his "sulky." The vehicle, which was worn and bespattered outside, had room within it for the doctor and his appurtenances only. On one side of him was a pile of books reaching from the floor to nearly the front window of the carriage, while on the other was a hamper containing fruit and sweetmeats, with a store of cream and sugar, with which the occupant regaled himself during his journey. Lashed on to the place usually appropriated to the "boot" was a large pail for watering the horses, together with a bag of oats and a bundle of hay. Such was the equipage of a fashionable country physician of the last century. Dr. Darwin was a man of large and massive person, bearing a rather striking resemblance to his distinguished townsman, Dr. Johnson, in manner, deportment, and force of character. He was full of anecdote, and his conversation was most original and entertaining. He was a very outspoken man, vehemently enunciating theories which some thought original and others dangerous. As he drove through the country in his "sulky," his mind teemed with speculation on all subjects, from zoonomy, botany, and physiology, to physics, æsthetics, and mental philosophy. Though his speculations were not always sound, they were clever and ingenious, and, at all events, they had the effect of setting other minds a-thinking and speculating on science and the methods for its advancement. From his "Loves of the Plants"--afterward so cleverly parodied by George Canning in his "Loves of the Triangles"--it would appear that the doctor even entertained a theory of managing the winds by a little philosophic artifice. His scheme of a steam locomotive was of a more practical character. This idea, like so many others, first occurred to him in his "sulky." "As I was riding home yesterday," he wrote to his friend Boulton in the year 1765, "I considered the scheme of the fiery chariot, and the longer I contemplated this favorite idea, the more practicable it appeared to me. I shall lay my thoughts before you, crude and undigested though they may appear to be, telling you as well what I thought would not do as what would do, as by those hints you may be led into various trains of thinking upon this subject, and by that means (if any hints can assist your genius, which, without hints, is above all others I am acquainted with) be more likely to improve or disapprove. And as I am quite mad of this scheme, I beg you will not mention it, or show this paper to Wyat or any body.