The result was that "the long-talked-of autobiography" disappointed those who expected more than a collection of bold picaresque sketches. "It is not," complained the "Athenaeum," "an autobiography, even with the licence of fiction;" "the interest of autobiography is lost," and as a work of fiction it is a failure. "Fraser's Magazine" said that it was "for ever hovering between Romance and Reality, and the whole tone of the narrative inspires profound distrust. Nay, more, it will make us disbelieve the tales in 'The Zincali' and 'The Bible in Spain.'" Another critic found "a false dream in the place of reality, a shadowy nothing in the place of that something all who had read 'The Bible in Spain' craved and hoped for from his pen." His friend, William Bodham Donne, in "Tait's Edinburgh Magazine," explained how "Lavengro" was "not exactly what the public had been expecting." Another friend, Whitwell Elwin, in the "Quarterly Review," reviewing "Lavengro" and its continuation, "The Romany Rye," not only praised the truth and vividness of the descriptions, but said that "various portions of the history are known to be a faithful narrative of Mr. Borrow's career, while we ourselves can testify, as to many other parts of his volumes, that nothing can excel the fidelity with which he has described both men and things," and "why under these circumstances he should envelop the question in mystery is more than we can divine. There can be no doubt that the larger part, and possibly the whole, of the work is a narrative of actual occurrences, and just as little that it would gain immensely by a plain avowal of the fact." I have suggested that there were good reasons for not calling the work an autobiography. Dr. Knapp has shown in his fortieth chapter that the narrative was interrupted to admit lengthy references to much later events for purposes of "occult vengeance"; and that these interruptions helped to cause the delay and to change the title there can be little doubt. Borrow was angry at the failure of "Lavengro," and in the appendix to "The Romany Rye" he actually said that he had never called "Lavengro" an autobiography and never authorised anyone to call it such. This was not a lie but a somewhat frantic assertion that his critics were mistaken about his "dream." In later years he quietly admitted that "Lavengro" gave an account of his early life. Yet Dr. Knapp was not strictly and completely accurate in saying that the first volume of "Lavengro" is "strictly autobiographical and authentic as the whole was at first intended to be." He could give no proof that Borrow's memory went back to his third year or that he first handled a viper at that time. He could only show that Borrow's accounts do not conflict with other accounts of the same matters. When they did conflict, Dr. Knapp was unduly elated by the discovery.