"It occurred to me at once that, as the paper in question had vilely slandered me, I could redress myself by an action of law, and that I could prove the magnitude of the evil done me by showing the grave importance which your lordship had attached to the words. In this way I could have forced an answer from your lordship to the questions which I now put to you. Your lordship would have been required to state on oath whether you believed those insinuations or not; and, if so, why you believed them. On grounds which I have already explained I have thought it improper to do so. Having abandoned that course, I am unable to force any answer from your lordship. But I appeal to your sense of honour and justice whether you should not answer my questions;—and I also ask from your lordship an ample apology, if, on consideration, you shall feel that you have done me an undeserved injury.—I have the honour to be, my lord, your lordship's most obedient, very humble servant,
"Jeffrey Wortle."
He was rather proud of this letter as he read it to himself, and yet a little afraid of it, feeling that he had addressed his Bishop in very strong language. It might be that the Bishop should send him no answer at all, or some curt note from his chaplain in which it would be explained that the tone of the letter precluded the Bishop from answering it. What should he do then? It was not, he thought, improbable, that the curt note from the chaplain would be all that he might receive. He let the letter lie by him for four-and-twenty hours after he had composed it, and then determined that not to send it would be cowardly. He sent it, and then occupied himself for an hour or two in meditating the sort of letter he would write to the Bishop when that curt reply had come from the chaplain.
That further letter must be one which must make all amicable intercourse between him and the Bishop impossible. And it must be so written as to be fit to meet the public eye if he should be ever driven by the Bishop's conduct to put it in print. A great wrong had been done him;—a great wrong! The Bishop had been induced by influences which should have had no power over him to use his episcopal rod and to smite him,—him Dr. Wortle! He would certainly show the Bishop that he should have considered beforehand whom he was about to smite. "'Amo' in the cool of the evening!" And that given as an expression of opinion from the metropolitan press in general! He had spared the Bishop as far as that action was concerned, but he would not spare him should he be driven to further measures by further injustice. In this way he lashed himself again into a rage. Whenever those odious words occurred to him he was almost mad with anger against the Bishop.
When the letter had been two days sent, so that he might have had a reply had a reply come to him by return of post, he put a copy of it into his pocket and rode off to call on Mr. Puddicombe. He had thought of showing it to Mr. Puddicombe before he sent it, but his mind had revolted from such submission to the judgment of another. Mr. Puddicombe would no doubt have advised him not to send it, and then he would have been almost compelled to submit to such advice. But the letter was gone now. The Bishop had read it, and no doubt re-read it two or three times. But he was anxious that some other clergyman should see it,—that some other clergyman should tell him that, even if inexpedient, it had still been justified. Mr. Puddicombe had been made acquainted with the former circumstances of the affair; and now, with his mind full of his own injuries, he went again to Mr. Puddicombe.
"It is just the sort of letter that you would write, as a matter of course," said Mr. Puddicombe.
"Then I hope that you think it is a good letter?"
"Good as being expressive, and good also as being true, I do think it."
"But not good as being wise?"
"Had I been in your case I should have thought it unnecessary. But you are self-demonstrative, and cannot control your feelings."