To the Rev. George Coleridge
Dear Brother,
I have often been surprised that Mathematics, the quintessence
of Truth, should have found admirers so few and so
languid. Frequent consideration and minute scrutiny have at
length unravelled the cause; viz. that though Reason is feasted,
Imagination is starved; whilst Reason is luxuriating in its
proper Paradise, Imagination is wearily travelling on a dreary
desert. To assist Reason by the stimulus of Imagination is
the design of the following production. In the execution of
it much may be objectionable. The verse (particularly in the
introduction of the ode) may be accused of unwarrantable
liberties, but they are liberties equally homogeneal with the
exactness of Mathematical disquisition, and the boldness of
Pindaric daring. I have three strong champions to defend
me against the attacks of Criticism: the Novelty, the Difficulty,
and the Utility of the work. I may justly plume myself that
I first have drawn the nymph Mathesis from the visionary
caves of abstracted idea, and caused her to unite with Harmony.
The first-born of this Union I now present to you; with interested
motives indeed—as I expect to receive in return the
more valuable offspring of your Muse.
Thine ever,
S. T. C.
[Christ's Hospital], March 31, 1791.
