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abhorrent to him； and indeed it was owing to his very desire to
explain what he had in his mind exactly and completely； with all
the refinements of which his subtle brain was capable； that
persons such as Kingsley were puzzled into thinking him
dishonest。 Unfortunately； however； the possibilities of truth and
falsehood depend upon other things besides sincerity。 A man may
be of a scrupulous and impeccable honesty； and yet his respect
for the truth it cannot be denied may be insufficient。 He may
be； like the lunatic； the lover； and the poet； 'of imagination
all compact'； he may be blessed； or cursed； with one of those
'seething brains'； one of those 'shaping fanatasies' that
'apprehend more than cool reason ever comprehends'； he may be by
nature incapable of sifting evidence； or by predilection simply
indisposed to do so。 'When we were there；' wrote Newman in a
letter to a friend after his conversion； describing a visit to
Naples； and the miraculous circumstances connected with the
liquefaction of St。 Januarius's blood； 'the feast of St。 Gennaro
was coming on； and the Jesuits were eager for us to stopthey
have the utmost confidence in the miracleand were the more
eager because many Catholics； till they have seen it； doubt it。
Our father director here tells us that before he went to Naples
he did not believe it。 That is； they have vague ideas of natural
means； exaggeration； etc。； not of course imputing fraud。 They say
conversions often take place in consequence。 It is exposed for
the Octave； and the miracle continuesit is not simple
liquefaction； but sometimes it swells； sometimes boils； sometimes
meltsno one can tell what is going to take place。 They say it
is quite overcoming … and people cannot help crying to see it。 I
understand that Sir H。 Davy attended everyday； and it was this
extreme variety of the phenomenon which convinced him that
nothing physical would account for it。 Yet there is this
remarkable fact that liquefactions of blood are common at Naples…
…and； unless it is irreverent to the Great Author of Miracles to
be obstinate in the inquiry； the question certainly rises whether
there is something in the air。 （Mind； I don't believe there is
and； speaking humbly； and without having seen it； think it a true
miracle but I am arguing。） We saw the blood of St Patrizia；
half liquid； i。e。 liquefying； on her feast day。 St John Baptist's
blood sometimes liquefies on the 29th of August； and did when we
were at Naples； but we had not time to go to the church。 We saw
the liquid blood of an Oratorian Father； a good man； but not a
saint； who died two centuries ago； I think； and we saw the liquid
blood of Da Ponte； the great and holy Jesuit； who； I suppose； was
almost a saint。 But these instances do not account for
liquefaction on certain days； if this is the case。 But the most
strange phenomenon is what happens at Ravello； a village or town
above Amalfi。 There is the blood of St。 Pantaleon。 It is in a
vessel amid the stonework of the Altar … it is not touched but on
his feast in June it liquefies。 And more； there is an
excommunication against those who bring portions of the True
Cross into the Church。 Why？ Because the blood liquefies； whenever
it is brought。 A person I know； not knowing the prohibition；
brought in a portion； and the Priest suddenly said； who showed
the blood； 〃Who has got the Holy Cross about him？〃 I tell you
what was told me by a grave and religious man。 It is a curious
coincidence that in telling this to our Father Director here； he
said； 〃Why； we have a portion of St。 Pantaleon's blood at the
Chiesa Nuova； and it is always liquid。〃'
After leaving Naples； Newman visited Loreto； and inspected the
house of the Holy Family； which； as is known to the faithful； was
transported thither； in three hops； from Palestine。 'I went to
Loreto；' he wrote； 'with a simple faith； believing what I still
more believed when I saw it。 I have no doubt now。 If you ask me
why I believe it； it is because everyone believes it at Rome；
cautious as they are and sceptical about some other things。 I
have no antecedent difficulty in the matter。 He who floated the
Ark on the surges of a world…wide sea； and enclosed in it all
living things； who has hidden the terrestrial paradise； who said
that faith might move mountains； who sustained thousands for
forty years in a sterile wilderness； who transported Elias and
keeps him hidden till the end； could do this wonder also。'
Here； whatever else there may be； there is certainly no trace of
a desire to deceive。 Could a state of mind； in fact； be revealed
with more absolute transparency？
When Newman was a child he 'wished that he could believe the
Arabian Nights were true'。 When he came to be a man； his wish
seems to have been granted。
Tract No。 90 was officially condemned by the authorities at
Oxford； and in the hubbub that followed； the contending parties
closed their ranks； henceforward； any compromise between the
friends and the enemies of the Movement was impossible。
Archdeacon Manning was in too conspicuous a position to be able
to remain silent； he was obliged to declare himself； and he did
not hesitate。 In an archidiaconal charge； delivered within a few
months of his appointment； he firmly repudiated the Tractarians。
But the repudiation was not deemed sufficient； and a year later
he repeated it with greater emphasis。 Still； however； the horrid
rumours were afloat。 The 〃Record〃 began to investigate matters；
and its vigilance was soon rewarded by an alarming discovery： the
sacrament had been administered in Chichester Cathedral on a
weekday； and 'Archdeacon Manning； one of the most noted and
determined of the Tractarians； had acted a conspicuous part on
the occasion'。 It was clear that the only way of silencing these
malevolent whispers was by some public demonstration whose import
nobody could doubt。 The annual sermon preached on Guy Fawkes Day
before the University of Oxford seemed to offer the very
opportunity that Manning required。 He seized it； got himself
appointed preacher； and delivered from the pulpit of St。 Mary's a
virulently Protestant harangue。 This time there could indeed be
no doubt about the matter： Manning had shouted 'No Popery！' in
the very citadel of the Movement； and every one； including
Newman； recognised that he had finally cut himself off from his
old friends。 Everyone； that is to say； except the Archdeacon
himself。 On the day after the sermon； Manning walked out to the
neighbouring village of Littlemore； where Newman was now living
in retirement with a few chosen disciples； in the hope of being
able to give a satisfactory explanation of what he had done。 But
he was disappointed； for when； after an awkward interval； one of
the disciples appeared at the door； he was informed that Mr。
Newman was not at home。
With his retirement to Littlemore； Newman had entered upon the
final period of his Anglican career。 Even he could no longer help
perceiving that the end was now only a matter of time。 His
progress was hastened in an agitating manner by the indiscreet
activity of one of his proselytes； W。 G。 Ward。 a young man who
combined an extraordinary aptitude for a priori reasoning with a
passionate devotion to Opera Bouffe。 It was difficult； in fact；
to decide whether the inner nature of Ward was more truly
expressing itself when he was firing off some train of scholastic
paradoxes on the Eucharist or when he was trilling the airs of
Figaro and plunging through the hilarious roulades of the Largo
al Factotum。 Even Dr。 Pusey could riot be quite sure； though he
was Ward's spiritual director。 On one occasion his young penitent
came to him； and confessed that a vow which he had taken to
abstain from music during Lent was beginning to affect his
health。 Could Dr。 Pusey see his way to releasing him from the
vow？ The Doctor decided that a little sacred music would not be
amiss。 Ward was all gratitude； and that night a party was
arranged in a friend's rooms。 The concert began with the solemn
harmonies of Handel； which were followed by the holy strains of
the '0h Salutaris' of Cherubini。 Then came the elevation and the
pomp of 'Possenti Numi' from the Magic Flute。 But； alas！ there
lies much danger in Mozart。 The page was turned and there was the
delicious duet between Papageno and Papagena。 Flesh and blood
could not resist that； then song followed song； the music waxed
faster and lighter； until； at last Ward burst into the
intoxicating merriment of the Largo al Factotum。 When it was
over； a faint but persistent knocking made itself heard upon the
wall； and it was only then that the company remembered that the
rooms next door were Dr。 Pusey's。
The same entrain which carried Ward away when he sat down to a
piano possessed him whenever he embarked on a religious
discussion。 'The thing that was utterly abhorrent to him；' said
one of his friends； 'was to stop