The Diseases of the Time, Chapter 1
CHAP. I. Two diuers Diseases of them that louelove to publish all and nothing.
CONCERNING the publishing of Workes and writings (besides the commonly exploded Issues of obscoene and friuolous Braines) there is a twofold Errour and Infirmitie. One is of those that louelove to publish as much as they can write; and a second is, of them that louelove to publish nothing. The first sort, commonly passeth into their extremity by an ouer-flowing Conceit of their owne Abilitie, which makes them to louelove whatsoeuer is theirs; or perchance for want of Iudgement, which teacheth Proportion, and sayes, that euen of things louely & good, there must be a stint and measure; and that an excellence in Qualitie, may bee a fault in Quantity. Now that men may free themselues of this euill, which is selfe-deceit, out of selfe conceit, let them chuse Witnesses for the Issues of their Soules, as the custome is for those of their Bodies. Let vsus inuite some of our most sincere and seuere Friends, to giuegive testimonie of the Ingenuitie & Vtilitie of those spirituall children, and so in the mouth of two or three Witnesses, let the words of such Writings stand. Surely such hauehave a great aduantage aboue the Authour in censuring his Workes, their Iudgments being free from the spectacles of selfe-louelove, which make al our own things seeme great in our owne eyes. But wee ought to know, that these must bee men of Iustice and Valour, as well as of Iudgement to execute, as well as to know; for such only will not feare to displease their Friend, that they may profit him, they will saue a publique reproofe by a priuate, and by the Chastisement of a Friend, will preuent the torturing of an Enemie. And Writers in this case must be more then patient, for they must bee thankfull vntounto to Censure, which squareth & fashioneth their Workes vntounto their true end; the common good. And now, that both the Authour and his Witnesses may hauehave a Rule and Remedie for the Riot and Excesse of writing, euen of things of worth; let them harken to an order alreadie set forth, that new writings should still bring forth some new Addition to their subiect. And indeed if this were obserued, it wold stop the mouth of Detraction, euen at the widest. For in this case there is nothing left for Detraction to say, but that it is offended with the increase of those Workes which increase either Knowledge or Vertue. And if heere the Reader tell mee, Physician heale thy selfe, I answere him againe, That except the Readers bee all healthy, I am not sicke: for he is not sick of writing, that by writing cures the sicke. Besides it must be confessed, that when Diuinitie is the subiect, this Rule though it may not wholy bee broken, yet it doth sometimes receiue Dispensations and Inlargements, for in some cases there may bee a great vse of repetitions and doublings.
And first, this is very requisite in things chiefly necessary; whereof the retention is highly profitable, and the neglect and ignorance full of danger.
Secondly, when the thing is full of difficultie, eyther in regard of apprehension, or practise, so that it is not easily known or performed. In these cases the saying of the Apostle is most true, That to write the same things, is for vsus a most sure thing; for euen heere also Detraction it selfe shall be forced to confesse, that repetition is not vnnecessary where the matters repeated are not sufficiently conceiued or receiued, neyther hath beene enough taught which hath not beene well heard. No more then that man hath knockt enough to whome the doore was not yet opened.
Therefore if men would finde a fault about this kinde of repetition, let them seeke it in themselues, and then they cannot misse it; for it is their owne dulnesse, their neglect, or at least their infirmitie that causeth it, and vntill these faults be amended, they cannot well lay a fault vponupon repetition; yet withal we may still remēber that euen in these Patents of Licence there is a measure and reseruation; for if the transcendent workes and words of our Sauiour Christ were in part suppressed, because the World could not beare them, I think thence doth plainely arise this Doctrine, That the Capacitie of Mankind is the most commendable measure of writing. Man may carry away for his vse that which is within his strength of bearing; but a burthen greater then his strength, spoyleth his strength and falleth it selfe to the ground. Therefore fiue words remembred, are better then a thousand forgotten; and it is for losse, and not for profit, when so much is deliuered, as the plentie destroyeth the memorie, or tyreth the indeuours of the Learner. Yet, I confesse, that a little redundance is safer and better, then a little want. For in outward vses, we desire that a streame should carrie more water then we vse, rather then to …arrie till the springs rise. It is easie to let the superfluous water to slide away, & it is easie for a man to read no farther then he reades for a tryal. But here I cannot but speake to the nicensse and cloyednesse of this time, a disease of Readers. Plenty of knowledge hath beene turned into an occasion of lothing: and knowledge only by plenty is become a light and dry meate, as Manna to Israel. Surely we are in an extreme faultinesse, when in steed of thankfulnesse to God for plentie, we returne lothsomnesse; & the blessings which he recheth to vsus in merciemercy, we put backe to him with neglect and scorne. When thy friend inuiteth thee to a Feast, and sets before thee plentie of Dishes, thou takest kindly his abundance as a signe of his louelove, and except thou art a Glutton, thou art not angry with him nor his meate, because some of it is left vneaten. Surely God heere giueth thee the foode and delicates of Heauen in the sundry dishes of the seuerall expressions and labours of his Seruants: And why art thou not as thankfull to God as thou art to thy Neighbor? Though there bee more then enough, thou mayest take but enough, the plentie forceth nothing vponupon thee, but only giueth thee choice; Take therefore but that which sit…eth thee, & so much as thou mayest well ouercome, and bee not angry, but thankfull for that which is left, for that may serue another as fitly as thy choice serueth thee. A miserable disproportion it is, that Gods plenty of goodnesse to vsus, should be made an occasion of diminishing our goodensse to him, & the more hee giues the lesse thankes hee should receiue. Yea, much rather let the abundance of his blessings procure an abundance of Thankesgiuing, for this is verily the right duty of proportion, to increase our thankes as God increaseth his blessings. Now for the disease of not publishing (I meane only of such things as hauehave worth in them) this proceedes commonly of two causes. The one is an errour in Iudgement, when men being wisely mad, they thinke it an especiall piece of reason to sit down in a selfe contentment, and to delight themselues, in themselues, by themselues. These men are their owne ends, and indeed are no other then Churles in knowledge; for as wretches keepe their Gold only for sight and not for vse, so these hoarders of Knowledge make their Knowledge but a selfe-recreation, & not a matter of profit to others. They are Fathers, Nurses, and Murderers of their owne Children, hauing begotten them, they kisse them, and then burie them. But these high-spirited men in their owne behalfe hauehave as they thinke a generous obiection: What (say they) shall wee prostitute our high conceptions, and heauenly raptures, to the common vse and censure of the vulgar? Here the word Common is the most emphaticall part of the question. And surely in that very word I thinke lyes the best part of the answere. For as these singulars make commonnesse the reason of their distaste of publishing; So communicatiue men and louers of the publike hauehave thought that goodnesse doth grow more good by commonnes. Indeed if knowledge were a fether, or a hat, or a beard, or in summe, a thing of fashiō, it were a reason very receiueable (though not very reasonable) to say, The fashion is common, and therfore contemptible & to be suppressed. But knowledge is a thing of vse, and that of the highest nature, it is the food of Spirits, and food may not bee taken away from the hungry, though there be a common plenty of it; and fulnesse in many hath bred loathing. And indeed if thou hast any thing that may adde vntounto knowledge or vertue, there is a hunger and need of it, and thou art farre from that Noblenesse which thou pretendest, if thou doest not commiserate necessitie, neither resemblest the chiefest paterne of Maiestie and Honour, who filleth the hungry with good things. It is indeed a matter of Pusillanimitie, not to bee able to indure a false and witlesse aspersion; and such is that censure which condemnes thee for being publikly profitable. And if there be any spot or griefe in this taxe of vulgaritie, vndergoe it patiently for the good of the publike, and so become a Confessor for pietie and vertue. And if yet thou be ashamed to be knowne for a publicke well-doer, giuegive vsus thy workes and keepe thy name to thy selfe.
But if all this cannot draw thee out of thy denne of singularitie, I wish thou mayest be famished out of it, by the returne of thine owne reason and dealing vponupon thee. For it is a rule of Iustice, that which men do, they should suffer; and yet I would hauehave thee suffer it no longer, but till thou doest it no more. Now that which thou doest and thy fellowes doe, is this: yee are a world by your selues, and the rest are left as a world by themselues; Now as yee are men of another world, to this world, by the way of retribution should this world be a diuers world vntounto you. As your litle world keepes his worth to it selfe, so should the great world keepe his worth to it selfe. And then I doubt not, but hunger, and thirst, and labour, would teach you the lawes of Trafficke, and force you out of your Cels of separation. Then would nature teach to giuegive, where there is a receiuing, as grace hath already taught vsus. That it is more blessed to giuegive, then to receiue; And indeed where hath any man gotten this high priuiledge, to be so excellent a part of the whole, that the whole should onelyonly bee a seruant of that part. That a part is inferiour to the whole, euen as a member to the bodie, the ancient doctrines and examples of Heathens will teach thee if thou art a Heathen, for they hauehave beene prodigall of their liues to bring their words of this kind into Actions. But if thou art a Christian, the Word is neere thee, euen in thy mouth. That the members of Christ must louelove and cherish each other, as the members of a bodie. To this end, excellēt is the exhortation of the great GREGORY, Qui audit dicat veni, &c. Let him that inwardly heares the voyce of grace, outwardly call men by the voyce of exhortation. But especially remarkable is that in his Pastorall Cure; Christ our elder brother being dead, we are bound to rayse vp seed vntounto our elder brother. And if any that are enriched with gifts, yet dote on the priuatnesse of contemplation, and neglect the profit of the publike, surely in the strictnesse of iudgement, how much they may profit, so much they are guiltie.
Now a second cause of this mysterie of silence, is a distemper of the bodie, when man are chayned vp with Melancholie, and durst not breake prison. These louelove not the light, but inioy darknesse, and bring vp their children, and burie them in the dungeon with them. To these I wish a bodily cure and outward physicke. Yet with all the physicke of grace, by which wee are stirred vp to resist and ouercome the whole flesh, in the different vices of his seuerall humors and complexions.