The Life of George Borrow [155]
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
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