] I think Sumner, Bishop of Chester, must have done so already.

3. My correspondent wrote to me once more, and I replied thus: "October
31, 1843. Your letter has made my heart ache more, and caused me more
and deeper sighs than any I have had a long while, though I assure you
there is much on all sides of me to cause sighing and heartache. On all
sides:--I am quite haunted by the one dreadful whisper repeated from so
many quarters, and causing the keenest distress to friends. You know but
a part of my present trial, in knowing that I am unsettled myself.

"Since the beginning of this year I have been obliged to tell the state
of my mind to some others; but never, I think, without being in a way
obliged, as from friends writing to me as you did, or guessing how
matters stood. No one in Oxford knows it or here" [Littlemore], "but one
near friend whom I felt I could not help telling the other day. But, I
suppose, many more suspect it."

On receiving these letters, my correspondent, if I recollect rightly, at
once communicated the matter of them to Dr. Pusey, and this will enable
me to describe, as nearly as I can, the way in which he first became
aware of my changed state of opinion.

I had from the first a great difficulty in making Dr. Pusey understand
such differences of opinion as existed between himself and me. When
there was a proposal about the end of 1838 for a subscription for a
Cranmer Memorial, he wished us both to subscribe together to it. I could
not, of course, and wished him to subscribe by himself. That he would
not do; he could not bear the thought of our appearing to the world in
separate positions, in a matter of importance. And, as time went on, he
would not take any hints, which I gave him, on the subject of my growing
inclination to Rome. When I found him so determined, I often had not the
heart to go on. And then I knew, that, from affection to me, he so often
took up and threw himself into what I said, that I felt the great
responsibility I should incur, if I put things before him just as I
might view them myself. And, not knowing him so well as I did
afterwards, I feared lest I should unsettle him. And moreover, I
recollected well, how prostrated he had been with illness in 1832, and I
used always to think that the start of the Movement had given him a
fresh life. I fancied that his physical energies even depended on the
presence of a vigorous hope and bright prospects for his imagination to
fe