Self-Denial

A Dialogue between the Flesh and the Spirit.

Flesh. What! become nothing! ne’er persuade me to it. God made me something; and I’ll not undo it. Spirit. Thy something is not thine, but his that gave it. Resign to him, if thou mean to save it.

Flesh. God gave me life: and shall I choose to die Before my time, or pine in misery?

Spirit. God is thy life: if then thou fearest death; Let him be all thy soul, thy pulse, and breath. Flesh. What! must I hate myself? when a* my brother Must love me! and I may not hate another?

Spirit. Loath what is loathsome. love God in the rest: He truly loves himself, that loves God best, [grudge? Flesh. Doth God our ease and pleasure to us Or doth religion make a man a drudge? [pleasure: Sprnt. That is thy poison which thou callest And that thy drudgery which thou count’st thy treasure. Flesh. Who can endure to be thus mewed up? And under laws for every bit and cup?

Spirit. God’s cage is better than the wilderness. When winter comes, liberty brings distress.

Flesh. Pleasure’s man’s happiness: the will’* not free To choose our misery: this cannot be.

Spirit. God is man’s end: with him are highest joys. Sensual pleasures are but dreams and toys. Should sin seem sweet? Is Satan turn’d thy friend? Will not thy sweet prove bitter in the end? Hast thou found sweeter pleasures than God’s love? Is a fool’s laughter like the joys above? Beauty surpasseth all deceitful paints: What ’s empty mirth to the delights of saints? God would not have thee have less joy, but more: And therefore shews thee the eternal store.

Flesh. Who can love baseness, poverty, and want? And under pining sickness be content?

Spirit. He that hath laid his treasure up above; And placed his portion only in God’s love: That waits for glory when his life is done. This man will be content with God alone. [mirth,

Flesh. What good will sorrow do us? Is not Fitter to warm a cold heart here on earth? Troubles will come whether we will or no: I ’11 never banish pleasure, and choose woe. [thing?:

Spirit. Then choose not sin; touch not forbidden Taste not the sweet that endless sorrow brings. If thou love pleasure, take in God thy fill: Look not for lasting joys in doing ill.

Flesh. Affliction ’ s better: life will soon be done: Pleasure shall be my part ere all be gone. d2 Spirit. Prosperity is barren: all men say The soil is best where there’s the deepest way. Life is for work, and not to spend in play. Now sow thy seed: labour while it is day. The huntsman seeks his game in barren plains: Dirty land answers best the ploughman’s pains. Passengers care not so the way be fair; Husbandmen would have the best ground and air. First think what ’s safe and fruitful: there ’s no pleasure Like the beholding of thy chiefest treasure, [sfeiise:

Flesh. Nature made me a man, and gave me Changing of nature is a vain pretence: It taught me to love women, honour, ease, And every thing that doth my senses please. [son

Spirit. Nature hath made thee rational; and rea-Must rule the sense, in ends, degrees, and season. Reason ’s the rider; sense is but the horse: Which then is fittest to direct thy course? Give up the reins, and thou becomest a beast; Thy fall at death will sadly end thy feast.

Flesh. Religion is a dull and heavy thing, Whereas a merry cup will make me sing. Love’s entertainments warm both heart and brain, And wind my fancy to the highest strain.

Spirit. Cupid had stuck a feather in thy cap; And lull’d thee dead asleep on Venus’s lap: Thy brains are tipled with some wanton’s eyes. Thy reason is become lust’s sacrifice. Playing a game at folly, thou hast lost Thy wit and soul, and winnest to thy cost.

Thy soul now in a filthy channel lies, While fancy seems to soar above the skies. Beauty will soon be stinking, loathsome earth: Sickness and death mar all the wanton’s mirth! It is not all the pleasure thou canst find Will countervail the sting that ’s left behind. Blind, brutish souls I that cannot love their God! And yet can dote on a defiled clod! [morrow?

Flesh. Why should I think of what will be to-An ounce of mirth is worth a pound of sorrow.

Spirit. But where’s that mirth when sorrows overtake thee? Will it then hold when life and God forsake thee? Forgetting death or Hell will not prevent it. Now lose thy day, thou’lt then too late repent it.

Flesh. Must I be pain’d and wronged, and not feel? As if my heart were made of flint or steel? [smart?

Spirit. Dost thou delight to feel thy hurt and Would not an antidote preserve thy heart? Impatience is but self- tormenting folly: Patience is cordial, easy, sweet, and holy. Is not that better which turns grief to peace, Than that which doth thy misery increase? [vite,

Flesh. When sport, and wine, and beauty do in-Who is it whom such baits will not incite?

Spirit. He that perceives the hook and sees the end, Whither it is that fleshly pleasures tend. He that by faith hath seen both Heav’n and Hell, And what sin costeth at the last can tell: He that hath tried and tasted better things, And felt that love from which all pleasure springs, They that still watch, and for Christ’s coming wait, Can turn away from, or despise the bait.

Flesh. Must 1 be made the foot-ball of disdain? And call’d a precise fool or puritan?

Spirit. Remember him that did despise the shame, And for thy sake bore undeserved blame. Thy journey ’s of small moment if thou stay because dogs bark, or stones lie in the way. Jf life lay on it, would’st thou turn again, For the winds blowing or a little rain? Is this thy greatest love to thy dear Lord? That canst not for his sake bear a foul word? Wilt thou not bear for him a scorner’s breath, That underwent for thee a cursed death? Is not Heav’n worth the bearing of a flout? Then blame not justice when it shuts thee out. Will these deriders stand to what they say, And own their words at the great dreadful day? Then they ‘d be glad, when wrath shall overtake

them, To eat their words, and say they never spake them.

Flesh. How, forsake all? ne’er mention it mere tome;

1 ’11 be of no religion to undo me.

Spirit. Is it not thine more in thy father’s hand, ITi an when it is laid out at sin’s command? And is that saved that ’s spent upon thy lust, Or which must be a prey to thieves or rust? And wouldst thou have thy riches in thy way, Where thou art passing on and canst not stay? And is that lost that ’s sent to Heav’n before? Had’st thou not rather have thy friends and store, Where thou may’st dwell for ever, in the light Of that long glorious day that fears no night?

Flesh. But who can willingly submit to death, Which will bereave us of our life and breath; That lays our flesh to rot in loathsome graves, Where brains and eyes were, leaves but ugly caves?

Spirit. So nature breaks and casts away the shell, Where the now beauteous singing bird did dwell: The secundine that once the infant clothed, After the birth, is cast away and loathed; Thus roses drop their sweet leaves under foot; But the spring shews that life was in the root. Souls are the roots of bodies: Christ the head Is root of both, and will revive the dead. Our sun still shineth when with us it ’s night: When he returns, we shall shine in his light. Souls that behold and praise God with the just, Mourn not because their bodies are but dust. Graves are but beds where flesh till morning sleeps: Or chests where God awhile our garments keeps: Our folly thinks he spoils them in the keeping; Which causeth our excessive fears and weeping: But God that doth our rising day foresee, Pities not rotting flesh so much as we. The birth of nature was deform’d by sin: The birth of grace did our repair begin The birth of glory at the resurrection Finisheth all, and brings both to perfection. Why should not fruit when it is mellow fall? Why would we linger here when God doth call?

Flesh. The things and persons in this world I see, But after death I know not what will be.

Spirit. Know’st thou not that which God himself hath spoken? Thou hast his promise which was never broken. Reason proclaims that noble heav’n born souls, Are made for higher things than worms and moles. God hath not made such faculties in vain, Nor made his service a deluding pain. But faith resolves all doubts, and hears the Lord Telling us plainly by his holy word, That unclothed souls shall with their Saviour dwell, Triumphing over sin, and death, and Hell. And by the power of Almighty love, Stars shall arise from graves to shine above. There we shall see the glorious face of God: His blessed presence shall be our abode: The face that banisheth all doubts and fears, Shuts out all sins, and drieth up all tears. That face which dark’neth the sun’s bright rays, Shall shine us into everlasting joys. Where saints and angels shall make up one choir, To praise the great Jehovah evermore. [sense:

Flesh. Reason not with me against sight and I doubt all this is but a vain pretence. Words against nature are not worth a rush; One bird in a hand is worth two in the bush. If God will give me Heav’n at last, I’ll take it: But for my pleasure here I ’11 not forsake it. [long Spirit. And wilt thou keep it? brutish flesh how Wilt thou not shortly sing another song? When conscience is awaken’d, keep thy mirth! When sickness and death comes, hold fast this earth:

Live if thou canst when God saith, come away.

Try whether all thy friends can cause thy stay.

Wilt thou tell death and God thou wilt not die?!

And wilt thou the consuming fire defy?

Art thou not sure to let go what thou hast?

And doth not reason bid thee then forecast,

And value the least hope of endless joys,

Before known vanities, and dying toys?

And can the Lord that is most just and wise,

Found all man’s duty in deceit and lies? Get thee behind me, Satan; thou dost savour The things of flesh, and not his dearest favour, Who is my life, and light, and love, and all, And so shall be whatever shall befall. It is not thou, but 1 that must discern, And must resolve; it’s I that hold the stem: Be silent, flesh; speak not against my God; Or else he’ll teach thee better by the rod. 1 am resolved thou shalt live and die, A servant, or a conquer ‘d enemy.

Lord charge not on me what this rebel says, That always was against me and thy ways! Now stop its mouth by grace, that shortly must Through just, but gainful death, be stopp’d with dust. The thoughts and words of flesh are none of mine: Let flesh say what it will, I will be thine. Whatever this rebellious flesh shall prate, Let me but serve thee. Lord, at any rate. LIse me on earth as seemeth good to thee, So I in Heav’n thy glorious face may see.

Take down my pride; let me dwell at thy feet: The humble are for earth and Heav’n most meet. Renouncing flesh, I vow myself to thee, With all the talents thou hast lent to me. Let me not stick at honour, wealth, or blood: Let all my clays be spent in doing good. Let me not trifle out more precious hours; But serve thee now with all my strength ancUpowers: if flesh should tempt me to deny my hand; Lord, these are the resolves to which I stand. October 29, 1659. Richard Baxter.