inally written; {0c}
secondly, other of these new Ballads, heavily corrected by Borrow in a
later handwriting; thirdly, fresh transcripts, with the revised texts,
made in or about 1854, of Ballads written in 1829; and lastly some of the
more important Ballads originally published in 1826, entirely re-written
in 1854, and the text thoroughly revised.

As will be seen from the few examples I have given in the following
pages, or better still from a perusal of the pamphlets, the value as
literature of Borrow's Ballads as we now know them is immeasurably higher
than that hitherto placed upon them by critics who had no material upon
which to form their judgment beyond the _Romantic Ballads_, _Targum_, and
_The Talisman_, together with the sets of minor verses included in his
other books. Borrow himself regarded his work in this field as superior
to that of Lockhart, and indeed seems to have believed that one cause at
least of his inability to obtain a hearing was Lockhart's jealousy for
his own _Spanish Ballads_. Be that as it may--and Lockhart was certainly
sufficiently small-minded to render such a suspicion by no means
ridiculous or absurd--I feel assured that Borrow's metrical work will in
future receive a far more cordial welcome from his readers, and will meet
with a fuller appreciation from his critics, than that which until now it
has been its fortune to secure.

Despite the unctuous phrases which, in obedience to the promptings of the
Secretaries of the British and Foreign Bible Society {0d} whose interests
he forwarded with so much enterprise and vigor, he was at times
constrained to introduce into his official letters, Borrow was at heart a
Pagan. The memory of his father that he cherished most warmly was that
of the latter's fight, actual or mythical, with 'Big Ben Brain,' the
bruiser; whilst the sword his father had used in action was one of his
best-regarded possessions. To that sword he addressed the following
youthful stanzas, which until now have remained un-printed:

THE SWORD

_Full twenty fights my father saw_,
_And died with twenty red wounds gored_;
_I heir'd what he so loved to draw_,
_His ancient silver-handled sword_.

_It is a sword of weight and length_,
_Of jags and blood-specks nobly full_;
_Well wielded by his Cornish strength_
_It clove the Gaulman's helm and scull_.

_Hurrah_! _thou silver-handled blade_,
_Though thou'st