f the title-page and opening leaf in facsimile. The title-page
demonstrates the earliest form of Borrow's conception. Not only did he
then contemplate an undisguised autobiography, but even described
himself, as he frequently did in his conversation, as 'a Norfolk man.'
Before the book was finished, however, he repudiated the
autobiographical note, and by the time he sat down to write _The Romany
Rye_ we find him fiercely denouncing his critics for coming to such a
conclusion. 'The writer,' he declares, 'never said it was an
autobiography; never authorised any person to say it was one.' Which was
doubtless true, in a measure. Yet I find among my Borrow Papers the
following letter from Whitwell Elwin, who, writing from Booton Rectory
on 21st October 1852, and addressing him as 'My dear Mr. Borrow,' said:

[Illustration: THE ORIGINAL TITLE-PAGE OF _LAVENGRO_.

_From the Manuscript in the possession of the Author of 'George Borrow
and his Circle.'_]

I hoped to have been able to call upon you at Yarmouth, but a
heavy cold first, and now occupation, have interfered with my
intentions. I daresay you have seen the mention made of your
_Lavengro_ in the article on Haydon in the current number of
_The Quarterly Review_, and I thought you might like to know
that every syllable, both comment and extract, was inserted by
the writer (a man little given to praise) of his own _accord_.
Murray sent him your book, and that was all. No addition or
modification was made by myself, and it is therefore the
unbiassed judgment of a _very critical_ reviewer. Whenever you
appear again before the public I shall endeavour to do ample
justice to your past and present merits, and there is one point
in which you could aid those who understand you and your books
in bringing over general readers to your side. I was myself
acquainted with many of the persons you have sketched in your
_Lavengro_, and I can testify to the extraordinary vividness
and accuracy of the portraits. What I have seen, again, of
yourself tells me that romantic adventures are your natural
element, and I should _a priori_ expect that much of your
history would be stranger than fiction. But you must remember
that the bulk of readers have no personal acquaintance with
you, or the characters you describe. The consequence is that
they fancy there is an immensity of rom