himself of all his traditional opinions,--a condition so graphically
described in the beginning of the second of his Meditations. There is
this difference, however, and in his favor: that he imposed upon
himself only a self-inflicted doubt, which he could terminate at any
time. His opinions had been but temporarily laid aside. They were on
the shelf, close at hand, ready to be taken down again when wanted. But
enough of this. You will, I know, aid me, if you can. And, now I think
of it, do so on one point, by justifying your assertion, made the
other evening, as to Mr. Newman's dilemma of the 'impossibility of
a book-revelation.'"

"I said, I think, that Mr. Newman has satisfactorily proved to me
that a book-revelation of moral and spiritual truth is impossible;
that God reveals himself to us within, and not from without."

"As to what is impossible," said the other, "I fancy it would be
difficult to get one thoroughly convinced of his ignorance and
feebleness to be other than very cautious how he used the word.
Perhaps, however, Mr. Newman may be more readily excused than most
men for the strength with which he pronounces his opinions; for,
as he has passed through an infinity of experiences, it may have
given him 'insight' into many absurdities which, to the generality
of mankind, do not appear such. I think if I had believed half so
many things, I should have lost all confidence in myself. What a
strong mind, or what buoyant faith, he must have!"

"Both,--both," said Fellowes.

"Well, be it so. But let us, as you promised yesterday, examine this
very point." This led on to a dialogue in which it was distinctly