'Sir, I wish you a better employment.' Then hastily changing the subject, he called out, 'What party are you in the Church-- Tractarian, Moderate, or Evangelical? I am happy to say, _I_ am the old HIGH.' 'I am happy to say I am NOT,' was Elwin's emphatic reply. Borrow boasted of his proficiency in the Norfolk dialect, which he endeavoured to speak as broadly as possible. 'I told him,' said Elwin, 'that he had not cultivated it with his usual success.' As the conversation proceeded it became less disputatious, and the two ended by becoming so cordial that they promised to visit each other. Borrow fulfilled his promise in the following October, when he went to Booton, and was 'full of anecdote and reminiscence,' and delighted the rectory children by singing them songs in the gypsy tongue. Elwin during this visit urged him to try his hand at an article for the Review. 'Never,' he said, 'I have made a resolution never to have anything to do with such a blackguard trade.'" {432a}

Elwin became greatly interested in The Romany Rye. He endeavoured to influence its composition, and even wrote to Borrow begging him "to give his sequel to Lavengro more of an historical, and less of a romancing air." He was not happy about the book. He wrote to John Murray in March:-

"'It is not the statements themselves which provoke incredulity, but the melodramatic effect which he tries to impart to all his adventures.' Instead of 'roaring like a lion,' in reply, as Elwin had expected, he returned quite a 'lamb-like' note, which gave promise of a greater success for his new work than its precursor." {432b}

Borrow appears to have become tired of biding his time with regard to The Romany Rye, and on 27th Feb. 1857 he wrote to John Murray to say that "the work must go to press, and that unless the printing is forthwith commenced, I must come up to London and make arrangements myself. Time is passing away. It ought to have appeared many years ago. I can submit to no more delays." The work was accordingly proceeded with, and Elwin wrote a criticism of the work for The Quarterly Review from the proof-sheets:-

"When the review was almost finished, it was on the point of being altogether withdrawn, owing to a passage in Romany Rye which Elwin said was clearly meant to be a reflection on his friend Ford, 'to avenge the presumed refusal of the latter to praise Lavengro in The Quarterly Review.' 'I am very anxious,' he said, 'to get Borrow justice for rare merits which have been entirely overlooked, but if he persists in publishing an attack of this kind I shall, I fear, not be able to serve him.' The objectionable paragraphs had been written by Borrow under a misapprehension, and he cancelled them as soon as he was convinced of his error." {433a}

John Murray determined not to publish the book unless the offending passage were removed. He wrote to Borrow the following letter:-

8th April 1857.

My Dear Borrow,--When I have done anything towards you deserving of apology I will not hesitate to offer one. As it is, I have acted loyally towards you, and with a view to maintain your interests.

I agreed to publish your present work solely with the object of obliging you, and in a great degree at the strong recommendation of Cooke. I meant (as was my duty) to do my very best to promote its success. You on your side promised to listen to me in regard to any necessary omissions; and on the faith of this, I pointed out one omission, which I make the indispensable condition of my proceeding further with the book. I have asked nothing unfair nor unreasonable- -nay, a compliance with the request is essential for your own character as an author and a man.

You are the last man that I should ever expect to "frighten or bully"; and if a mild but firm remonstrance against an offensive passage in your book is interpreted by you into such an application, I submit that the grounds for the notion must exist nowhere but in your own imagination. The alternative offered to you is to omit or publish elsewhere. Nothing shall compel me to PUBLISH what you have written. Think calmly and dispassionately over this, and when you have decided let me know.

Yours very faithfully, JOHN MURRAY.

The reference that had so offended Murray and Elwin had, in all probability been interpolated in proof form, otherwise it would have been discovered either when Murray read the manuscript or Elwin the proofs. By return of post came the following reply from Borrow, then at Great Yarmouth:-

Dear Sir,--Yesterday I received your letter. You had better ask your cousin [Robert Cooke] to come down and talk about matters. AFTER Monday I shall be disengaged and shall be most happy to see him. And now I must tell you that you are exceedingly injudicious. You call a chapter heavy, and I, not wishing to appear unaccommodating, remove or alter two or three passages for which I do not particularly care, whereupon you make most unnecessary comments, obtruding your private judgment upon matters with which you have no business, and of which it is impossible that you should have a competent knowledge. If you disliked the passages you might have said so, but you had no right to say anything more. I believe that you not only meant no harm, but that your intentions were good; unfortunately, however, people with the best of intentions occasionally do a great deal of harm. In your language you are frequently in the highest degree injudicious; for example, in your last letter you talk of obliging me by publishing my work. Now is not that speaking very injudiciously? Surely you forget that I could return a most cutting answer were I disposed to do so.

I believe, however, that your intentions are good, and that you are disposed to be friendly.--Yours truly,

GEORGE BORROW.

The tone of this letter is strangely reminiscent of some of the Rev Andrew Brandram's admonitions to Borrow himself, during his association with the Bible Society. Borrow bowed to the wind, and the offending passage was deleted, and The Romany Rye eventually appeared on 30th April 1857, in an edition of a thousand copies. The public, or such part of it as had not forgotten Borrow, had been kept waiting six years to know what had happened on the morning after the storm. Lavengro had ended by the postilion concluding his story with "Young gentleman, I will now take a spell on your blanket--young lady, good-night," and presumably the three, Borrow, Isopel Berners and their guest had lain down to sleep, and a great quiet fell upon the dingle, and the moon and the stars shone down upon it, and the red glow from the charcoal in the brazier paled and died away.

The Romany Rye is a puzzling book. The latter portion, at least, seems to suggest "spiritual autobiography." It reveals the man, his atmosphere, his character, and nowhere better than among the jockeys at Horncastle. It gives a better and more convincing picture of Borrow than the most accurate list of dates and occurrences, all vouched for upon unimpeachable authority. It is impressionism applied to autobiography, which has always been considered as essentially a subject for photographic treatment. Borrow thought otherwise, with the result that many people decline to believe that his picture is a portrait, because there is a question as to the dates.

Among the reviews, which were on the whole unfriendly, was the remarkable notice in The Quarterly Review, by the Rev. Whitwell Elwin:- {435a}

"Nobody," he wrote, "sympathises with wounded vanity, and the world only laughs when a man angrily informs it that it does not rate him at his true value. The public to whom he appeals must, after all, be the judge of his pretensions. Their verdict at first is frequently wrong, but it is they themselves who must reverse it, and not the author who is upon his trial before them. The attacks of critics, if they are unjust, invariably yield to the same remedy. Though we do not think that Mr Borrow is a good counsel in his own cause, we are yet strongly of the opinion that Time in this case has some wrongs to repair, and that Lavengro has NOT obtained the fame which was its due. It contains passages which in their way are not surpassed by anything in English Literature."

The value of these prophetic words lies in the fine spirit of fatherly reproof in which the whole review was written. It is the work of a critic who regarded literature as a thing to be approached, both by author and reviewer, with grave and deliberate ceremony, not with enthusiasm or prejudice. From any other source the following words would not have possessed the significance they did, coming from a man of such sane ideas with the courage to express them:-

"Various portions of the history are known to be a faithful narrative of Mr Borrow's career, while we ourselves can testify, as to many other parts of his volumes, that nothing can excel the fidelity with which he has described both men and things. Far from his showing any tendency to exaggeration, such of his characters as we chance to have known, and they are not a few, are rather within the truth than beyond it. However picturesquely they may be drawn, the lines are invariably those of nature. Why under these circumstances he should envelop the question in mystery is more than we can divine. There can be no doubt that the larger part, and possibly the whole, of the work is a narrative of actual occurrences." {436a}

The Appendix itself, which had drawn from Elwin the grave declaration that "Mr Borrow is very angry with his critics," is a fine piece of rhetorical denunciation. It opens with the deliberate restraint of a man who feels the fury of his wrath surging up within him. It tells again the story of Lavengro, pointing morals as it goes. Then the studied calm is lost--Priestcraft, "Foreign Nonsense," "Gentility Nonsense," "Canting Nonsense," "Pseudo-Critics," "Pseudo-Radicals" he flogs and pillories mercilessly until, arriving at "The Old Radical," he throws off all restraint and lunges out wildly, mad with hate and despair. As a piece of literary folly, the Appendix to The Romany Rye has probably never been surpassed. It alienated from Borrow all but his personal friends, and it sealed his literary fate as far as his own generation was concerned. In short, he had burnt his boats.