Life & Wisdom Quote by Francis Quarles

A small sentence that carries the whole social technology of early modern authorship: charm as currency. Quarles opens with a wish, but it’s not only courteous. It’s a carefully balanced exchange rate between writer and reader, framing the book as a shared pleasure rather than a lecture, a sermon, or a commodity. The phrasing "as much pleasure" makes reading feel like a moral equivalent to writing, quietly flattering the audience: you, too, can partake in the delight that animated the work.

The line also does reputational work. In a 17th-century print culture where patronage, piety, and public scrutiny collided, claiming "pleasure" is a strategic softening. Quarles, known for devotional poetry and emblem books, often walks the tightrope between delight and edification; pleasure had to be defensible. By locating pleasure in the act of composition, he implies the text was made with sincerity and care, not mere duty. And by extending that pleasure to the reader, he nudges them toward a receptive posture: if you’re not enjoying it, you’re out of sync with the proper spirit of the work.

There’s a subtle power move, too. The author sets the terms of engagement. Writing becomes the benchmark; reading is invited to match it. It’s hospitality with a spine: a genial overture that also instructs the reader on how to feel, and therefore how to read.