lion, tired even of victory.

Small things troubled him and honours awakened in him no enthusiasm. The Times in reviewing The Bible in Spain had inferred that he was not a member of the Church of England, {355c} and the statement "must be contradicted." The Royal Institution was prepared to confer an honour upon him, and he could not make up his mind whether or not to accept it.

"What would the Institute expect me to write?" he enquires of John Murray, Junr., 25th Feb. 1843. "(I have exhausted Spain and the Gypsies.) Would an essay on the Welsh language and literature suit, with an account of the Celtic tongues? Or would something about the ancient North and its literature be more acceptable? . . . Had it been the Royal Academy, I should have consented at once, and do hereby empower you to accept in my name any offer which may be made from that quarter. I should very much like to become an Academician, the thing would just suit me, more especially as 'they do not want CLEVER men, but SAFE men.' Now I am safe enough, ask the Bible Society, whose secrets I have kept so much to their satisfaction, that they have just accepted at my hands an English Gypsy Gospel gratis." {356a}

He declined an invitation to join the Ethnological Society.

"Who are they?" he enquires in the same letter. "At present I am in great demand. A Bishop has just requested me to visit him. The worst of these Bishops is that they are all skinflints, saving for their families; their cuisine is bad and their Port-wine execrable, and as for their cigars--. . . "

Borrow strove to quiet his spirit by touring about Norfolk, "putting up at dead of night in country towns and small villages." He returned to Oulton at the end of a fortnight, having tired himself and knocked up his horse. Even the news that a new edition of The Bible in Spain was required could not awaken in him any enthusiasm. He was glad the book had sold, as he knew it would, and he would like a rough estimate of the profits. A few days later he writes to John Murray, Junr., with reference to a new edition of The Zincali, saying that he finds "that there is far more connection between the first and second volumes than he had imagined," and begging that the reprint may be the same as the first. "It would take nearly a month to refashion the book," he continues, "and I believe a month's mental labour at the present time would do me up." The weather in particular affected, him. For years he had been accustomed to sun- warmed Spain, and the gloom and greyness of England depressed him.

"Strange weather this," he had written to John Murray (31st Dec. 1842)--"very unwholesome I believe both for man and beast. Several people dead and great mortality amongst the cattle. Am intolerably well myself, but get but little rest--disagreeable dreams--digestion not quite so good as I could wish--been on the water system--won't do--have left it off, and am now taking lessons in singing."

Many men have earned the reputation of madness for less eccentric actions than taking lessons in singing as a cure for indigestion, after the failure of the water cure.

Although he was receiving complimentary letters from all quarters and from people he had never even heard of, he seemed acutely unhappy.

"I did wrong," he writes to his wife from London (29th May 1843), "not to bring you when I came, for without you I cannot get on at all. Left to myself, a gloom comes upon me which I cannot describe. I will endeavour to be home on Thursday, as I wish so much to be with you, without whom there is no joy for me nor rest. You tell me to ask for SITUATIONS, etc. I am not at all suited for them. My place seems to be in our own dear cottage, where, with your help, I hope to prepare for a better world . . . I dare say I shall be home on Thursday, perhaps earlier, if I am unwell; for the poor bird when in trouble has no one to fly to but his mate." And a few days later: "I wish I had not left home. Take care of yourself. Kiss poor Hen."

During his stay in London, Borrow sat to Henry Wyndham Phillips, R.A., for his portrait. {357a} On 21st June John Murray wrote: "I have seen your portrait. Phillips is going to saw off a bit of the panel, which will give you your proper and characteristic height. Next year you will doubtless cut a great figure in the Exhibition. It is the best thing young Phillips has done." The painting was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1844 as "George Borrow, Esq., author of The Bible in Spain," and is now in the possession of Mr John Murray.

There is a story told in connection with the painting of this portrait. Borrow was a bad sitter, and visibly chafed at remaining indoors doing nothing. To overcome this restlessness the painter had recourse to a clever stratagem. He enquired of his sitter if Persian were really a fine language, as he had heard; Borrow assured him that it was, and at Phillips' request, started declaiming at the top of his voice, his eyes flashing with enthusiasm. When he ceased, the wily painter mentioned other tongues, Turkish, Armenian, etc., in each instance with the same result, and the painting of the portrait became an easy matter.

On 23rd June John Murray (the Second) died, at the age of sixty-five, and was succeeded by his son. "Poor old Murray!" Ford wrote to Borrow, "We shall never see his like again. He . . . was a fine fellow in every respect." In another letter he refers to him as "that Prince of Bibliophiles, poor, dear, old Murray." Borrow's own relations with John Murray had always been most cordial. On one occasion, when writing to his son, he says: "I shall be most happy to see you and still more your father, whose jokes do one good. I wish all the world were as gay as he." Then without a break, he goes on to deplore the fact that "a gentleman drowned himself last week on my property. I wish he had gone somewhere else." Such was George Borrow.

For some time past Borrow's thoughts had been directed towards obtaining a Government post abroad. The sentence, "You tell me to ask for situations, etc.," in a letter to his wife had reference to this ambition. He had previously (21st June 1841) written to Lord Clarendon suggesting for himself a consulship; but the reply had not been encouraging. It was "quite hopeless to expect a consulship from Lord Palmerston, the applicants were too many and the appointments too few."

Borrow recognised the stagnation of his present life.

"I wish the Government would give me some command in Ireland which would call forth my energies," he wrote to John Murray (25th Oct. 1843). "If there be an outbreak there I shall apply to them at once, for my heart is with them in the present matter: I hope they will be firm, and they have nothing to fear; I am sure that the English nation will back them, for the insolence and ingratitude of the Irish, and the cowardice of their humbug chief, have caused universal disgust." Later he wrote, also to John Murray, with reference to that "trumpery fellow O'Connell . . . I wish I were acquainted with Sir Robert Peel. I could give him many a useful hint with respect to Ireland and the Irish. I know both tolerably well. Whenever there's a row I intend to go over with Sidi Habismilk and put myself at the head of a body of volunteers."

He had previously written "the old Duke [Wellington] will at last give salt eel to that cowardly, bawling vagabond O'Connell." Borrow detested O'Connell as a "Dublin bully . . . a humbug, without courage or one particle of manly feeling." Again (17th June) he had written: "Horrible news from Ireland. I wish sincerely the blackguards would break out at once; they will never be quiet until they have got a sound licking, and the sooner the better."

The finer side of Borrow's character was shown in his eagerness to obtain employment. There is a touch of pathos in the sight of this knight, armed and ready to fight anything for anybody, wasting his strength and his talents in feuds with his neighbours.

In the profits on the old and the preparation of new editions of The Bible in Spain, Borrow took a keen interest. The money he was making enabled him to assist his wife in disembarrassing her estate. "I begin to take considerable pleasure in making money," he wrote to his publisher, "which I hope is a good sign; for what is life unless we take pleasure in something?" Again he enquires, "Why does not the public call for another edition of them [The Gypsies of Spain]. You see what an unconscionable rascal I am becoming." During his lifetime Borrow received from the firm of Murray, 3437 pounds, 19s., most of which was on account of The Bible in Spain and, consequently, was paid to him during the first years of his association with Albemarle Street.

Caroline Fox gives an interesting picture of Borrow at this period as he appeared to her:-

"25th Oct. 1843.

"Catherine Gurney gave us a note to George Borrow, so on him we called,--a tall, ungainly, uncouth man, with great physical strength, a quick penetrating eye, a confident manner, and a disagreeable tone and pronunciation. He was sitting on one side of the fire, and his old mother on the other. His spirits always sink in wet weather, and to-day was very rainy, but he was courteous and not displeased to be a little lionised, for his delicacy is not of the most susceptible. He talked about Spain and the Spaniards; the lowest classes of whom, he says, are the only ones worth investigating, the upper and middle class being (with exceptions, of course) mean, selfish, and proud beyond description. They care little for Roman Catholicism, and bear faint allegiance to the Pope. They generally lead profligate lives, until they lose all energy and then become slavishly superstitious. He said a curious thing of the Esquimaux, namely, that their language is a most complex and highly artificial one, calculated to express the most delicate metaphysical subtleties, yet they have no literature, nor are there any traces of their ever having had one--a most curious anomaly; hence he simply argues that you can ill judge of a people by their language." {360a}

One of the strangest things about Borrow's personality was that it almost invariably struck women unfavourably. That he himself was not indifferent to women is shown by the impression made upon him by the black eyes of one of the Misses Mills of Saxham Hall, where he was taken to dinner by Dr Hake, who states that "long afterwards, his inquiries after the black eyes were unfailing." {360b} He was also