Richard Baxter's penitent confession and his necessary vindication in answer to a book called…

XLI. And in defence of the Nonconformists against the false accusation of Shism laid on them by the Imposing Schismatics, I doubt, I was too keen in confuting Mr. Sherlock; I found it hard to discern whether the defence of truth and slandered suffering Servants of Christ, or not exasperating false Accusers should command my style.

XLI. And in defence of the Nonconformists against the false accusation of Shism laid on them by the Imposing Schismaticks, I doubt, I was too keen in confuting Mr. Sherlocke; I found it hard to discern whether the defence of truth and slandered suffering Servants of Christ, or not exasperating false Accusers should command my style.

XLII. What other Errors there are or have been in my Life or Writings, I daily beg of God to discover to me and pardon: For I never did any thing which might not and ought not to have been done better. Particularly I beg pardon for too frequent hastiness and harshness of Speech, to my nearest Domestics, from whom I never differed one moment in point of Interest or Love; but had too often sour overhasty provoking words on trifling occasions.

XLII. What other Errors there are or have been in my Life or Writings, I daily beg of God to discover to me and pardon: For I never did any thing which might not and ought not to have been done better. Particularly I beg pardon for too frequent hastiness and harshness of Speech, to my nearest Domesticks, from whom I never differed one moment in point of Interest or Love; but had too often sour overhasty provoking words on trifling occasions.

XLIII. But all forementioned set together lye not half so heavy on my Soul, as my inward Deficiency and Omission; That having had so many Convictions of the truth of Scripture, and the certainty of the Life to come, and can scarce think of any thing but death and the future state, it is so sure and near, and have read, and heard, and written so much of the Love of God and of Heaven as I have done, it shameth, it grieveth me, it maketh me even abhor and loath my self, that I usually reach little higher than pacific, quieting dull Affections, and that Faith, and Hope, and Love, do not keep me in more delightful thoughts of God and my Redeemer, and in a more joyful longing to be with Christ and all the Blessed; and that ever I should have a cold and common thought of God and things so high and holy, and that the prospect of my change, and the coming of Christ, is not a continual Feast to my Soul, and setteth me not more above the concerns of this vile and corruptible Flesh, and above all impatience of pain, and above the fears of Death and Corruption. O what a contradiction is there between that Head and Tongue that professeth to believe what I profess, of God, of Christ, of Endless Glory, and that Heart that no more rejoiceth in that Belief and Hope, but by languor and decay of Nature, (and doubtless great imperfection of Faith) is kept from that joy that such believing in reason should produce, and goeth towards Heaven with so many pauses of fear or dullness, and so little of that Heavenly delight, which I have long been seeking of God, and which my low and weak condition needeth.