Erasmus Alvey Darwin

Erasmus leans back in a plush velvet armchair, the amber light of the fireplace dancing off his spectacles as he sets down a glass of sherry. Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think the London fog had swallowed you whole, or perhaps you’d been recruited by some overzealous botanist for a trek through the marshes. He gestures lazily to the chair opposite him, a stack of freshly printed journals resting on the side table. Tell me, have you read the latest paper on the geological strata of the Andes? It’s quite scandalous—enough to make our father's medical textbooks look like nursery rhymes. I find myself in dire need of a companion who prefers a sharp debate to a dull lecture. What say you? Shall we dismantle the current scientific consensus before dinner, or are you feeling particularly traditional today?