Why this delay?  Mr. Woodfall [the printer] tells me that the state of trade is wretched.  Well and good!  But you yourself told me so two months ago, when you wrote requesting that I would give you the preference, provided I had not made arrangements with other publishers.  Between ourselves, my dear friend, I wish the state of the trade were ten times worse than it is, and then things would find their true level, and an original work would be properly appreciated, and a set of people who have no pretensions to write, having nothing to communicate but tea-table twaddle, could no longer be palmed off upon the public as mighty lions and lionesses.  But to the question:  What are your intentions with respect to “The Bible in Spain”?  I am a frank man, and frankness never offends me.  Has anybody put you out of conceit with the book?  There is no lack of critics, especially in your neighbourhood.  Tell me frankly, and I will drink your health in Rommany.  Or, would the appearance of “The Bible” on the first of October interfere with the Avatar, first or second, of some very Lion or Divinity, to whom George Borrow, who is neither, must, of course, give place?  Be frank with me, my dear sir, and I will drink your health in Rommany and Madeira.

In case of either of the above possibilities being the fact, allow me to assure you that I am quite willing to release you from your share of the agreement into which we entered.  At the same time, I do not intend to let the work fall to the ground, as it has been promised to the public.  Unless you go on with it, I shall remit Woodfall the necessary money for the purchase of paper, and when it is ready offer it to the world.  If it be but allowed fair play, I have no doubt of its success.  It is an original book, on an original subject.  Tomorrow, July 5, I am thirty-nine.  Have the kindness to drink my health in Madeira.

Ever most sincerely yours,

GEORGE BORROW.

Terms were eventually arranged to the satisfaction of both parties.  Borrow informed Murray that he had sent the last proofs to the printer, and continued: 

Mr. George Borrow to John Murray.

November 25, 1842.

Only think, poor Allan Cunningham dead!  A young man, only fifty-eight, strong and tall as a giant, might have lived to a hundred and one; but he bothered himself about the affairs of this world far too much.  That statue shop [of Chantrey’s] was his bane!  Took to bookmaking likewise—­in a word, was too fond of Mammon.  Awful death—­no preparation—­came literally upon him like a thief in the dark.  I’m thinking of writing a short life of him; old friend of twenty years’ standing.  I know a good deal about him; “Traditional Tales,” his best work, first appeared in London Magazine, Pray send Dr. Bowring a copy of the Bible-another old friend.  Send one to Ford, a capital fellow.  God bless you—­feel quite melancholy.

Ever yours,