The diseases of the time, attended by their remedies. By Francis Rous

CHAP. I. Two diuers Diseases of them that loue to publish all and nothing. (Book 1)

CONCERNING the publishing of Workes and writings (besides the commonly exploded Issues of obscoene and friuolous Braines) there is a twofold Errour and Infirmi∣tie.

One is of those that loue to publish as much as they can write; and a second is, of them that loue to publish nothing. The first sort, commonly pas∣seth into their extremity by an ouer-flowing Conceit of their owne Abilitie, which makes them to loue whatsoeuer is theirs; or perchance for want of Iudgement, which teacheth Proportion, and sayes, that e∣uen of things louely & good, there must be a stint and mea∣sure; 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 vs inuite some of our most sin∣cere

and seuere Friends, to giue testimonie of the Ingenuitie & Vtilitie of those spirituall chil∣dren, and so in the mouth of two or three Witnesses, let the words of such Writings stand. Surely such haue a great ad∣uantage aboue the Authour in censuring his Workes, their Iudgments being free from the spectacles of selfe-loue, 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 Iudge∣ment 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 Cha∣stisement of a Friend, will pre∣uent the torturing of an Ene∣mie.

And Writers in this case must be more then patient, for they must bee thankfull vnto to Censure, which squareth & fashioneth their Workes vnto their true end; the common good. And now, that both the Authour and his Witnes∣ses may haue a Rule and Re∣medie for the Riot and Ex∣cesse 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 Detra∣ction to say, but that it is offen∣ded with the increase of those Workes which increase either Knowledge or Vertue. And

if heere the Reader tell mee, Physician heale thy selfe, I an∣swere 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 Diui∣nitie is the subiect, this Rule though it may not wholy bee broken, yet it doth sometimes receiue Dispensations and In∣largements, for in some cases there may bee a great vse of re∣petitions and doublings.

And first, this is very requi∣site in things chiefly necessary; whereof the retention is high∣ly profitable, and the neglect and ignorance full of danger.

Secondly, when the thing is full of difficultie, eyther in re∣gard of apprehension, or pra∣ctise, 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 vs a most sure thing; for euen heere also Detraction it selfe shall be for∣ced to confesse, that repetition is not vnnecessary where the matters repeated are not suffi∣ciently conceiued or receiued, neyther hath beene enough taught which hath not beene well heard. No more then that man hath knockt e∣nough 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 vpon 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 suppres¦sed, because the World could not beare them, I think thence doth plainely arise this Doc∣trine, That the Capacitie of Mankind is the most commen∣dable measure of writing. Man may carry away for his vse that which is within his strength of bearing; but a bur∣then greater then his strength, spoyleth his strength and fal∣leth it selfe to the ground. Therefore fiue words remem∣bred, are better then a thou∣sand forgotten; and it is for

losse, and not for profit, when so much is deliuered, as the plentie destroyeth the memo∣rie, 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 super∣fluous water to slide away, & it is easie for a man to read no far¦ther then he reades for a tryal. But here I cannot but speake to the nicensse and cloyednesse of this time, a disease of Rea∣ders. Plenty of knowledge hath beene turned into an oc∣casion of lothing: and know∣ledge only by plenty is be∣come 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 vs in mer∣cie, 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 loue, and except thou art a Glutton, thou art not angry with him nor his meate, be∣cause some of it is left vn∣eaten. Surely God heere gi∣ueth thee the foode and deli∣cates of Heauen in the sundry dishes of the seuerall expres∣sions and labours of his Ser∣uants: 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 vpon 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 ano∣ther as fitly as thy choice ser∣ueth thee. A miserable dispro∣portion it is, that Gods plenty of goodnesse to vs, should be made an occasion of dimini∣shing our goodensse to him, & the more hee giues the lesse thankes hee should receiue. Yea, much rather let the abun∣dance of his blessings procure an abundance of Thankesgi∣uing, for this is verily the right duty of proportion, to increase our thankes as God increaseth his blessings. Now

for the disease of not publish∣ing (I meane only of such things as haue worth in them) this proceedes commonly of two causes. The one is an er∣rour in Iudgement, when men being wisely mad, they thinke it an especiall piece of reason to sit down in a selfe content∣ment, and to delight them∣selues, in themselues, by them∣selues. These men are their owne ends, and indeed are no other then Churles in know∣ledge; for as wretches keepe their Gold only for sight and not for vse, so these hoarders of Knowledge make their Knowledge but a selfe-recrea∣tion, & 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 haue as they thinke a generous obie∣ction: What (say they) shall wee prostitute our high con∣ceptions, and heauenly rap∣tures, to the common vse and censure of the vulgar? Here the word Common is the most emphaticall part of the que∣stion. And surely in that very word I thinke lyes the best part of the answere. For as these singulars make com∣monnesse the reason of their distaste of publishing; So com∣municatiue men and louers of the publike haue 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 fa∣shion is common, and therfore contemptible & to be suppres∣sed. 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 vnto knowledge or ver∣tue, 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 mat∣ter of Pusillanimitie, not to

bee able to indure a false and witlesse aspersion; and such is that censure which con∣demnes thee for being publik∣ly profitable. And if there be any spot or griefe in this taxe of vulgaritie, vndergoe it pa∣tiently for the good of the publike, and so become a Confessor for pietie and ver∣tue. And if yet thou be asha∣med to be knowne for a pub∣licke well-doer, giue vs thy workes and keepe thy name to thy selfe.

But if all this cannot draw thee out of thy denne of singu∣laritie, I wish thou mayest be famished out of it, by the re∣turne of thine owne reason and dealing vpon thee. For it is a rule of Iustice, that which men do, they should suffer; and yet I would haue 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 ano∣ther world, to this world, by the way of retribution should this world be a diuers world vnto 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 giue, where there is a receiuing, as grace hath already taught vs. That it is more blessed to giue, 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 onely bee a ser∣uant of that part. That a part is inferiour to the whole, euen as a member to the bo∣die, the ancient doctrines and examples of Heathens will teach thee if thou art a Hea∣then, for they haue beene pro∣digall 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 loue and cherish each other, as the members of a bodie. To this end, excellēt is the exhor∣tation 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 exhorta∣tion. But especially remark∣able is that in his Pastorall Cure; Christ our elder bro∣ther being dead, we are bound to rayse vp seed vnto our elder brother. And if any that are enriched with gifts, yet dote on the priuatnesse of contem∣plation, 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 distem∣per of the bodie, when man are chayned vp with Melan∣cholie, and durst not breake prison. These loue 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 phy∣sicke. Yet with all the phy∣sicke of grace, by which wee are stirred vp to resist and o∣uercome the whole flesh, in the different vices of his se∣uerall humors and complexi∣ons.