But a change was at hand.  In the course of 1839, the little cloud showed itself in the outlook of the future; the little rift opened, small and hardly perceptible, which was to widen into an impassable gulf.  Anglicanism started with undoubted confidence in its own foundations and its own position, as much against Romanism as against the more recent forms of religion.  In the consciousness of its strength, it could afford to make admissions and to refrain from tempting but unworthy arguments in controversy with Rome; indeed the necessity of such controversy had come upon it unexpectedly and by surprise.  With English frankness, in its impatience of abuses and desire for improvement within, it had dwelt strongly on the faults and shortcomings of the English Church which it desired to remedy; but while allowing what was undeniably excellent in Rome, it had been equally outspoken and emphatic in condemnation of the evils of Rome.  What is there to wonder at in such a position?  It is the position of every honest reforming movement, at least in England.  But Anglican self-reliance was unshaken, and Anglican hope waxed stronger as the years went on, and the impression made by Anglican teaching became wider and deeper.  Outside attacks, outside persecution, could now do little harm; the time was past for that.  What might have happened had things gone on as they began, it is idle to inquire.  But at the moment when all seemed to promise fair, the one fatal influence, the presence of internal uncertainty and doubt, showed itself.  The body of men who had so for acted together began to show a double aspect.  While one portion of it continued on the old lines, holding the old ground, defending the old principles, and attempting to apply them for the improvement of the practical system of the English Church, another portion had asked the question, and were pursuing the anxious inquiry, whether the English Church was a true Church at all, a true portion of the one uninterrupted Catholic Church of the Redeemer.  And the question had forced itself with importunate persistence on the leading mind of the movement.  From this time the fate of Tractarianism, as a party, was decided.

In this overthrow of confidence, two sets of influences may be traced.

1.  One, which came from above, from the highest leading authority in the movement, was the unsettlement of Mr. Newman’s mind.  He has told the story, the story as he believed of his enfranchisement and deliverance; and he has told the story, though the story of a deliverance, with so keen a feeling of its pathetic and tragic character,—­as it is indeed the most tragic story of a conversion to peace and hope on record,—­that it will never cease to be read where the English language is spoken.  Up to the summer of 1839, his view of the English position had satisfied him—­satisfied him, that is, as a tenable one in the anomalies of existing Christendom.  All seemed clear and hopeful, and the one thing to be thought of was to raise the