A treatise of self-denial. By Richard Baxter, pastor of the church at KidderminsterA treatise of self-denial. By Richard Baxter, pastor of the church at Kederminster

If you would drive ou• •n ill Tenant, you will ⟨p. 279⟩cast out all their goods, and leave them nothing but the bare walls, and not so much as a bed to lie on, and uncover the house over their heads, and then they will be gone. So if you cast out all your sensual commodities and delights, that when the flesh looks about, it shall see nothing but the bare walls, and cannot find a resting place, then death will be less grievous and less unwelcome. Or rather indeed even the flesh and self must be mortified; and in the sense in which it must be denied, it must have no being or life, (that is, as it is withdrawn from its subordination to God) And then there will be nothing to rise up against your submission to Death. Though nature as nature will keep you from Loving death as death, yet were but self-denial perfect, there would be nothing to keep you from submitting to it, and desiring to pass through it to immortality. O that you would but try such a self-denying life, and you would certainly die an easy, comfortable Death.

If you would drive ou• •n ill Tenant, you will ⟨p. 279⟩cast out all their goods, and leave them nothing but the bare walls, and not so much as a bed to lie on, and uncover the house over their heads, and then they will be gone. So if you cast out all your sensual commodities and delights, that when the flesh looks about, it shall see nothing but the bare walls, and cannot find a resting place, then death will be less grievous and less unwelcome. Or rather indeed even the flesh and self must be mortified; and in the sense in which it must be denied, it must have no being or life, (that is, as it is withdrawn from its subordination to God) And then there will be nothing to rise up against your submission to Death. Though nature as nature will keep you from Loving death as death, yet were but self-denial perfect, there would be nothing to keep you from submitting to it, and desiring to pass through it to immortality. O that you would but try such a self-denying life, and you would certainly die an easie, comfortable Death.