In one of his letters the Bishop denies that there is any truth in the accusation that his servant was an accomplice in the illicit trading in straw plait, and there is no extant evidence that he was so; but it is clear, from the correspondence between the Transport Board and the Secretary to the Admiralty, and between the latter and Earl Fitzwilliam, that the Transport Board had no doubt about the fact. There is something pathetic in the fact that these letters, in his, the Bishop’s, beautiful handwriting, which is like the finest engrossing, but so small that it is scarcely legible without the aid of a magnifying-glass, should have come to light exactly 100 years after they were written, and only two years after the wish had been expressed by the writers quoted above, that more could be learned of “this worthy prelate” and “this good man,” for in them the Bishop himself rises up to cast off the adornments of self-sacrifice, etc., with which he has been decorated by his biographers. Divers writers, one after another, have attributed to him the qualifications of a saint, finding everything he did so good and wonderful, that the last, the late Rev. M. C. Godwin, mentions as a merit that the Bishop walked a mile to his duties at the prison. Mr. Brown, in the footnote just quoted, says: “It would be interesting to know the history of this good man after the prisoners were discharged in 1814.” The Bishop’s association with Norman Cross entitles him to a prominent place in this narrative, and such further particulars of his life as have after much research been established add something to the little that is known of the émigrés and the déportés who took refuge in England.