word, all repeated, 'Good-night, sir,' and adjusting their cloaks, followed him." There were evidently some wags in Oviedo in those days.

Borrow had now no more Testaments to despatch, and so set out again for Madrid, where he arrived safely after hairbreadth escapes from incredible imaginary dangers. At the Capital he found a state of affairs anything but prosperous for the sale of Testaments. There were many reasons why people did not care to buy, one of them perhaps being that they had no money. Our agent thus felt obliged to enter the arena personally and opened a shop. At the same time "a violent and furious letter against the Bible Society" demanded a reply, and brought forth a "warm and fiery" epistle because "tameness and gentleness are of little avail when surrounded by the vassal slaves of bloody Rome." Advertisements blue, yellow and crimson were also printed and posted along the streets "causing a great sensation." Yet it never occurred to Borrow that all this noisy publicity was contrary to the promise of reserve and secrecy he gave the Spanish Minister when he received permission to print the Testaments. Nor can there be any doubt but that quiet selling would have continued long and uninterrupted. But the operatic method was the only one compatible with Borrow's temperament.

His next report stated "the priests and bigots are teeming with malice and fury" and "there is no attempt however atrocious which may not be expected from such people, and were it right and seemly for me, the most insignificant of worms, to make such a comparison, I would say that, like Paul at Ephesus, I am fighting with wild beasts." At last the expected happened, and the priests "swooped" upon the Bible shop, warnings being sent to him to erase from his window the words "Despatch of the British and Foreign Bible Society." This he refused to do since it was his "grand object" to attract attention by them. In defense of his cause he now memorialized the Prime Minister, "a weak, timid, priest-ridden man." The letter which

he claims to have written to that Statesman he forwarded in "translation" to the Society, a translation which is plainly only a version of what Borrow imagined he had written. It has all the ear-marks of an idiomatic English piece of prose in an exaggerated Borrovian style, impossible of being rendered in Spanish. For example, if we were to trust the exact wording given, Borrow wrote to the Prime Minister of Spain the following extraordinary paragraph which would have landed him in a jiffy on the other side of the frontier. "It is unnecessary for me to dilate on the intentions of the Society with respect to Spain, a country which perhaps most of any in the world is in need of the assistance of the Christian philanthropist, as it is overspread with the thickest gloom of heathenish ignorance, beneath which the fiends and the demons of the abyss seem to be holding their ghastly revels; a country in which all sense of right and wrong is forgotten, and where every man's hand is turned against his fellow to destroy or injure him, where the name of Jesus is scarcely ever mentioned but in blasphemy, and his precepts are almost utterly unknown. In this unhappy country the few who are enlightened are too much occupied in the pursuit of lucre, ambition or ungodly revenge to entertain a desire or thought of bettering the moral state of their countrymen. But it has pleased the Lord to raise up in foreign lands individuals differently situated and disposed, whose hearts bleed for their brethren in Spain. It is their belief that ignorance of God's word is the sole cause of these horrors, and to dispel that ignorance they have printed the Gospel in Spain which they dispose of at a price within the power of the poorest to command. Vain men would fain persuade themselves and others that the Society entertains other motives, by which uncharitableness they prove that they themselves are neither Christians, nor acquainted with the spirit of Christianity. But let the most fearful and dubious reassure themselves with the thought, that should the Bible Society foster the very worst intentions, it would baffle their power,

if even assisted by Satanic agency, to render Spain worse than it at present is."

It is an ill wind which blows no one any good, and being particularly bad in Madrid after all these activities, it at last carried Borrow into jail. Yet considering the cause for which he was laboring he felt that he had now conferred upon him the highest of mortal honors. Besides, it was pleasant to be under lock and key long enough to become an international question; henceforth he would be classed with the world's greatest martyrs. But his imprisonment was not only made very comfortable, it was also of short duration through the kind intervention of the Lord, and the British Ambassador, and Borrow was again able to make plans for further disseminating the Word among some neighboring wild people. He therefore rode around in various directions through the hottest part of Spain with the thermometer at 115° F., while the atmosphere resembled "the flickering glow about the mouth of an oven." Others were enlisted in the cause, and took the field provided with Testaments, among them the host of the inn in which Borrow was staying. Of the character of this man we know nothing, but Borrow states: "I had scarcely written the above lines when I heard the voice of the donkey in the courtyard, and going out I found my host returned." This is hardly fair to mine host, but throws some light on the twists of Borrow's mind. Some success is recorded on this journey. For instance, eight poor harvestmen, who appeared to have come to refresh themselves at the door of a wine-shop were instead induced to partake of the water of life at a much smaller price. We are further assured that the arrival of the New Testament "spread like wildfire through the villages" of benighted New Castile. Even Borrow's daily ablutions could not be carried on without interruption. "Last night," he says, "as I was bathing myself and my horse in the Tagus, a knot of people gathered on the bank, crying: 'Come out of the water, Englishman, and give us books; we have got our

money in our hands. It was a foregone conclusion that being in puribus, Borrow should find himself without Testaments on his person. But his servant, at a short distance, was presumably not in the habit of going into the water, for he held up an every-ready copy over which a scuffle ensued, and is was torn from his hands-at a price adapted to the humble means of the purchaser.

Having now sold about nine hundred copies to the "sunblackened peasantry of Castile," he returned to Madrid "trusting in the Lord and defying Satan." There he learned that some factious priests "publicly cursed him in the church more than once," but as no ill seemed to come from it, we may well believe that the event gave him little concern. He was proud of the success attained, and reported that any failure to spread the Word was due to the fact that "the inhabitants were too much occupied with dancing and other amusements to entertain any serious thoughts."

Borrow now entered on the last phase of his efforts in behalf of the Bible Society. He made all preparations at Madrid, securing another servant and the "largest and most useful horse" to be obtained. He then wrote to London "I have been very passionate in prayer during the last two or three days; and I entertain some hope that the Lord has condescended to answer me, as I appear to see my way with considerable clearness." His style was evidently becoming more and more "unusual," and the London Secretary felt at last obliged to urge Mr. Borrow "to keep to plain language for plain people." For his last campaign he tried a new system. He disguised himself in the costume of the peasants of Old Castile, and thereafter followed what was perhaps his most striking conquest. "On nearing the village I met a genteel-looking young woman leading a little boy by the hand. As I was about to pass her with the customary salutation she stopped, and after looking at me for a moment she said: 'Uncle, what is that you have on your borrico? Is it soap?' I replied, 'Yes, it is soap to

wash souls clean.'"' Naturally, not understanding the language of the Bible Society, she welcomed his explanation that he carried "cheap and godly books for sale." There being little or no money in those parts, the poor woman at first declined to buy; but when Borrow had passed on, the lad came running behind shouting out of breath, "Stop, uncle, the book, the book," and after handing over three reals in copper he (that is, this little boy who was being led by the hand) seized the Testament and "flourished the book over his head with great glee."

As was to be surmised, the disguise of the agent did not meet with the unqualified approval of the gentlemen at home; his peasant's costume seemed to ruffle the dignity of the committee. Having first smiled, they began to "grow grave," and the first levity was promptly succeeded by sober second thoughts. The Committee might "cheerfully employ a peasant, but they were doubtful whether it became them to have the likeness of one going about in their name. A word to the wise, they say, is enough.' In the meantime Borrow sold a number of Testaments at the Capital, in some instances to "every individual in the house, man and child, manservant and maidservant." His optimism consequently rose again and he wrote to the Committee: "There was a time, as you are well aware, I was in the habit of saying, 'Dark Madrid,' an expression which I thank God I may now drop; for can that city justly be called dark in which thirteen hundred Testaments, at least, are in circulation and in daily use?" Borrow therefore felt that his task was well-nigh done and he himself a "useless vessel." Indeed, he had sold "as many Testaments as Madrid would bear for a time," and he was afraid of "bringing the book into contempt by making it too common." He therefore determined to campaign once more in Andalusia, but being "exceedingly superstitious," and having dreamed that he was "being hacked with long, ugly knives by robbers in a desolate road," discretion seemed the better part of valor, and the beaten highway