g presentiment that my existing opinions would ultimately give
way, and that the grounds of them were unsound, was not a sufficient
warrant for disclosing the state of my mind. I had no guarantee yet,
that that presentiment would be realised. Supposing I were crossing
ice, which came right in my way, which I had good reasons for
considering sound, and which I saw numbers before me crossing in
safety, and supposing a stranger from the bank, in a voice of
authority, and in an earnest tone, warned me that it was dangerous,
and then was silent, I think I should be startled, and should look
about me anxiously, but I also should go on, till I had better
grounds for doubt; and such was my state, I believe, till the end of
1842. Then again, when my dissatisfaction became greater, it was hard
at first to determine the point of time, when it was too strong to
suppress with propriety. Certitude of course is a point, but doubt
is a progress; I was not near certitude yet. Certitude is a reflex
action; it is to know that one knows. I believe I had not that, till
close upon my reception into the Catholic Church. Again, a practical,
effective doubt is a point too, but who can easily ascertain it for
himself? Who can determine when it is, that the scales in the balance
of opinion begin to turn, and what was a greater probability in
behalf of a belief becomes a positive doubt against it?

In considering this question in its bearing upon my conduct in 1843,
my own simple answer to my great difficulty was, _Do_ what your
present state of opinion requires, and let that _doing_ tell: speak
by _acts_. This I did my first _act_ of the year was in February,
1843. After three months' deliberation I published my retractation of
the violent charges which I had made against Rome: I could not be
wrong in doing so much as this; but I did no more: I did not retract
my Anglican teaching. My second _act_ was in September; after much
sorrowful lingering and hesitation, I resigned my Living. I tried
indeed to keep Littlemore for myself, even though it was still to
remain an integral part of St. Mary's. I had made it a parish, and I
loved it; but I did not succeed in my attempt. I could indeed bear to
become the curate at will of another, but I hoped still that I might
have been my own master there. I had hoped an exception might have
been made in my favour, under the circumstances; but I did not gain
my request. Indeed, I was asking what was impracticable