The aftermath of my book This Long Disease, My Life: Alexander Pope and the Sciences, written in 1964–67 with Marjorie Hope Nicolson and published in 1968 by the Princeton University Press, was the desperate recognition that we had accumulated "facts' in the void. The book's reception bore out the suspicion. The reviewers were "Pope critics": specialists, experts, those with vested interests who wanted to know what this book could do to fill out the poet's life when there was still no reliable biography, how it extended the annotation of individual passages of his poetry, and what concrete case it made for the influence of the sciences on Pope's abstract poetic imagination. Distinguished, even great, historians who cared about the contexts of Enlightenment thought were, of course, then at work. Peter Gay immediately comes to mind for the way in which he was then (1964–68) studying and presenting the diversity of Enlightenment culture. But the disciplines then were much further apart than they are now, often working in isolation of each other. We forget the immense progress of interdisciplinarity in just one generation (1970–2000). In any case, the corporeal "imagination" itself was far less abstract than it has become in almost 300 years since Pope's time.