cription 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.
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 feed upon; so much so,
that when he was so unworthily treated by the authorities of the
place in 1843, I recollect writing to the late Mr. Dodsworth to state
my anxiety, lest, if his mind became dejected in consequence, his
health would suffer seriously also. These were difficulties in my
way; and then again, another difficulty was, that, as we were not
together under the same roof, we only saw each other at set times;
others indeed, who were coming in or out of my rooms freely, and as
there might be need at the moment, knew all my thoughts easily; but
for him to know them well, formal efforts were necessary. A common
friend of ours broke it all to him in 1841, as far as matters had
gone at that time, and showed him clearly the logical conclusions
which must lie in propositions to which I had committed myself; but
somehow or other in a little while, his mind fell back into its
former happy state, and he could not bring himself to believe that
he and I should not go on pleasantly together to the end. But that
affectionate dream needs must have been broken at last; and two years
afterwards, that friend to whom I wrote the letters which I have just
now inserted, set himself, as I have said, to break it. Upon that, I
too begged Dr. Pusey to tell in private to any one he would, that I
thought in the event I should leave the Church of England. However,
he would not do so; and at the end of