“I have enclosed the Bishop of London’s letter, which I beg of your Grace to keep till you have a leisure hour in which I may receive it from your hands, either here or at Whitehall; in the mean time I am perfectly satisfied as to the letter being safe, and shall not wish to have it return’d till it is most convenient to your Grace to pay me for any pleasure it may have given you, by that I shall have in its procuring me an hour of your company. I think indeed the letter will afford you a good deal of pleasure, it must be a great comfort to every good mind to see how religion can impart not only patience but even cheerfulness under the greatest bodily infirmities. I find it will be necessary to trouble your Grace with some explanation of the Bishop’s letter. Before I went to Tunbridge, I sent his Lordship the ‘Highland Poems,’[288] by the Dean of York, and the day before I went to Tunbridge my Lord sent them back with a very obliging note to thank me for them, but express’d his opinion that they were not genuine. I was a little distress’d by this favour, as I had not an opportunity to wait on the Bishop before my journey. I thought to write to him and assume the air of being his correspondent would have too much appearance of presumption, and not to thank him for his note might look like neglect, so I waited till the season allow’d me to send him some wheatears and to assure him I wrote only as his poulterer. As it was natural to take notice of what his Lordship had said concerning the poems, I ventured with the utmost deference to give the reasons why I should have believed them to be genuine and original, and then return’d back to my character of Poulterer and desir’d his Lordship to forgive my presumption and order my letter to be put on the wheatears when roasting to preserve them from being burnt. I ask pardon for this long story, but it was necessary as a key to the Bishop’s letter. Your Grace will find some mistakes made by his Secretary. “I was misinform’d the other night when I told your Grace Mr. Wortley Montague was gone abroad, he is in England, but where is a secret even to his lawyer, and those who are imploy’d on his affairs. I thought it right to let your Grace know this, as it appears to me very singular, as he is now under the protection of privilege. I know you will be so good as not to mention I told your Grace this unless it be to Lady Bute, who I should think had better know this circumstance. I beg my best respects to my Lord Duke, and Lady Harriet Bentinck. “With the greatest regard, “I am, Madam, “Your Grace’s most obliged most obedᵗ and faithful humble Servᵗ, “E. MONTAGU.” [288] “Fragments of Ancient Poetry,” translated from the Erse or Gaelic language, by James Macpherson. [Page heading: BISHOP SHERLOCK’S LETTER] [Page heading: “MORE LAST WORDS”] This is the Bishop’s letter-- “Fulham, ye 1st Septembʳ, 1760. “MADAM,